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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26403838">The Devil's Dance</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenZeus/pseuds/GreenZeus'>GreenZeus</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas, MAAS Sarah J. - Works</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Lemon, Light BDSM, Love, Lust, Multi, Retelling, Shameless Smut, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Tamlin The Tool, dark lucien, fangirl for lucien, two men better than one</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:27:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>61,488</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26403838</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenZeus/pseuds/GreenZeus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After stumbling into the dark and dangerous world of the fae, Feyre finds shelter in the Spring Court. It's a heartbreakingly beautiful place, with two lonely inhabitants. Tamlin seems eager to help, but his fox-faced emissary might just devour her first.</p><p>A sinfully seductive AU re-telling of Acotar with twists, mystery, and a potential threesome. Some canon and some not. Slow build/burn. I *try* to post every Friday!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Feyre Archeron/Lucien Vanserra, Feyre Archeron/Tamlin, Feyre Archeron/Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>107</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>157</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Thorns</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hungry and alone, I stalked through the woods. Thin was a generous word to describe the garments I wore, and a pleasant numbness now gloved my extremities; its presence ominous.</p><p>The traps had come up empty, and the sun was already past its peak in the sky. There were only so many times one could re-boil bones for broth in a cauldron; only so many days one could live without real food. My sisters' waning faces haunted my mind as I trudged through the snowdrifts. My bow hung limply from my hands, and I mentally counted the arrows in my quiver. Some days, that count was the only thing that kept me going.</p><p>“One, two, three, four,” I monotoned into the ground as I maneuvered before a clearing.</p><p>There were rumours about strange happenings in these woods; faeries stealing children, great wolves that could kill with a single bite, and other horrid creatures. My fears quickly evaporated when the last of the money ran dry. I learnt that starvation was real, faeries were not.  </p><p>Suddenly, there was movement ahead of me. </p><p>A small white animal tossed its way through the fresh snow, confident steps giving it away. It must have been a fox of some sort, and it would do; I would take anything alive. I silently retrieved an arrow and strung the bow, steadied my breath, and exhaled. The wood sailed from my fingers, clipped a branch, and sunk wide of the animal. The fox did not turn as it disappeared into the woods. Sinking to my knees; I bowed my head with shame.  I had failed and damaged an arrow in my attempt. </p><p>The silence of the snowy woods pressed upon me, and a ringing started in my ears. I felt suffocated by my hunger and stupidity. I deserved to die in this cursed forest.  Inside I felt like a husk--empty, dark, and devoid of matter. The ringing grew louder, a white noise that threatened to tip me into insanity.</p><p>“One, two, three,” </p><p>The words were my own, but I barely recognized my voice. It was as if the cold had numbed it from me. I stood, eyes downcast, then gazed towards the clearing. I could fix the spent arrow; It was only a loss if I made one. I was in control. </p><p>I started towards the opening in the trees, but a flicker of colour froze me mid-step. As if an old God had taken pity on me, a fat tawny-coloured deer stepped into the clearing. It might have been a trick my mind had crafted, but I didn’t have the time to think twice. My arrow pierced that snowy silence and found purchase in its flank. It reared in shock and began to run. This time, however, I would chase after the animal. </p><p>My frozen limbs thudded beneath me, and I honed my focus on the retreating form of the deer. With virgin white snow, the drips of crimson blood marked its path. I vaulted towards the animal with impossible speed. That doe was fatally wounded, and it would stop from exhaustion or exsanguination eventually. All I had to do was persist, and the last eight years of our lives had been just that. We survived on scraps, descended into poverty, and now there was this. </p><p>“One, two, one, two, one, two,” The words repeated in my mind until I forgot any meaning attached to them. It became a march for my feet hitting the ground, pounding me closer to survival. The injured deer was faster than me, but it was clumsy, and I knew the forest better. Air burned my lungs as I saw the deer vault itself over a thicket of snowy thorns. The dying rays of the sun fell into my eyes, I reminded myself that night was coming, and I could not afford to falter. </p><p>I launched myself into the thicket of branches and fought through the pain as they tore at me. It was like a set of claws that snagged and pulled me from my prey, but I was too far gone in my madness to stop. I did not deserve one moment of this life; none of us did. It was not my sisters' fault, and I couldn’t even blame my father for his role in this. I decided at that instant that I would fight every second for anything I could get. There would be no more indulgent moments of self-deprecation. There was only this mad drive towards persistence and survival.</p><p>The air itself shuttered around me at the force of my revelations, and it fueled me through the last section of the razor-sharp thorns. I could taste the blood in my mouth as I barrelled through the thicket, but the monochrome of the forest was gone, and lush green blinded me.</p><p>“You’re here,” A male voice announced.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Who do you think was waiting for Feyre?<br/>Leave me a comment, It keeps me motivated.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. New World Figs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A sweet Tamlin appears, or is he?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You’re here,” A male voice announced.</p><p>I failed to stop myself from colliding into the large mass ahead of me. Darkness spread through my consciousness as my skull smacked against stone.</p><p>When I woke, treetops, birdsong, and a splitting headache greeted me. I blinked and adjusted to the glare. <em> Where was I? </em>  Every hint of winter had vanished. An idyllic and warm spring day surrounded me. Old-growth trees towered above me, and birds soared through their branches. I reached up to examine the source of my headache, and my fingers came away sticky with blood. I frowned; heaven was <em>not </em>supposed to have head injuries.</p><p>I looked up and found the granite maw of a lion over me. The colossal sculpture must have been over fifteen-feet tall, and ancient. This statue was the source of my headache. Moss covered its body, edges eroded by the forest, but there was no hiding how beautiful it had once been. An icy lick of fear crept up my spine. <em> Where was I? What was this place? </em></p><p>Standing was painful, but I was anxious to be on my feet and in a less vulnerable position. I backed into the stone giant, taking the measure of the space before me. Emerald green spread as far as my eye could see. A forest of thorns was behind me and I vaguely remembered racing through them, but the wintery wasteland I knew was gone. A straight path of forgotten cobbles lay before the lion, but I could not make out anything up ahead. I was alone, I had lost track of time, and I could not judge the sun’s position in the sky.</p><p>My mind felt foggy, trying to calculate clues to nightfall. Despite my shaken brain, I sensed there was more to going home than passing through the thicket again. People had been here at some point in time, had made the statue, and the road he guarded. <em> Maybe a city lay at the other end? </em> Night would come, and I could not be this exposed when it did. I needed to find shelter before I found the answers to my questions. I forced my unsteady limbs onto the path, and the panic in my chest seemed to settle at my plan, however feeble.</p><p>Everything before me felt too bright and green. I did not recognize any of this forest, and my nerves prickled in anticipation. Despite this, the perpetual cold in my bones lessened, and the pain in my skull kept hunger at bay. The path wound around trees, through thick sections of wood, and after a few hours, a light appeared in the distance. Minutes later, I could make out a gilded gate in the path, and a great house beyond. Fine scrollwork decorated the gate; serpents winding up its posts, and beasts carved into its sides. Ahead, there was an immaculate lawn dotted with rose beds. A symmetrical manorhouse gleamed in its center, not ancient like the lion that guarded the path, but well established. </p><p>
  <em> Someone must live there--take care of the place. Right? </em>
</p><p>Despite the beautiful, inviting sight, I paused at the gate’s latch. The change in my surroundings was acute, and I was struggling to understand it. I could interpret the signs immediately in front of me, but couldn't seem to place the pieces together. Soon it would be dark, and it was better to beg shelter from the owner of this house than risk vulnerability. The gate swung open easily, and I stepped on to the well-groomed path. My gut tightened with apprehension, but I did not look back. </p><p>Dusk was roaming into the world, and the scent of roses floated towards me. I couldn't remember the last time I had experienced such unadulterated beauty, and it broke my heart. Humbled and nervous, I knocked on the double story door and held my breath. </p><p>The male who opened the door might have been a God. He had fine shoulder length ash coloured hair, a broad and powerful build, and porcelain skin. A peculiar pale golden mask was on his face; its pattern was lacy and encrusted with emeralds. The mask matched his ornate garments, kelp green with pale golden clips and a ruby red broach. Some sort of King had answered the door, and I looked like a wild animal.</p><p>“Goddess, <em> what </em> has happened to you?” The royal said with genuine shock. His voice lilted in a foreign way but was smooth and pleasant.</p><p>“I’m sorry, can I stay here tonight?” I asked, blundering past his question. <em> Why was I apologizing? </em></p><p>“Of course! Please come in,” he boomed, sweeping the door open, and ushering me through it.</p><p>The most beautiful man I had ever seen proceeded to lead me into the most beautiful house I had ever seen and my mind reeled to explain any of it. A grand staircase rose from veined marble floors, paintings neatly lined the walls, and candlelight bloomed in every corner. Behind us, the door softly clicked shut. My eyes were on the paintings as I asked, “What is this place?”</p><p>“This is the Spring Court,” The male stated like I should know what that meant.</p><p>I stared at him, my confusion growing, and then noticed his ears. I must have mistaken them for part of his mask. They were long, and their pointed tops parted his hair and marked him as <em> inhuman </em>.</p><p>“You're a faerie,” I stated, realizing that the rumours might have held some truth after all.</p><p>Understanding seemed to reach him; his lovely features hardened, and he sniffed the air. A shiver ran down my spine. “How did you get past the wall, human girl?” He replied, an unusual look in his eyes.</p><p>“The wall?” I answered, wondering how hard I had hit my head this afternoon. I couldn't be hearing or seeing any of this right. Faeries did <em> not  </em>exist; they were just a story to scare people into paying their taxes and behaving. He looked at me for a long moment, seeming to weigh something in his mind. His eyes swept over me, and I flushed at his attention. They settled on a spot above my brow.</p><p>“You're bleeding,” He said softly.</p><p>“I was hunting and got beaten up a bit by the woods. It’s nothing,” I said, taking one backwards step towards the door. If the stories were true, the faeries <em> ate </em> humans and used their blood for magical purposes. I had stumbled right into his world, then presented myself to him as an offering. Anxiety crept back into my muscles.</p><p>What options did I have? <em> Could I run? Could I even leave now that I had entered? Could I fight him?  </em></p><p>“I would never harm you,” He was motionless, but a hurt look crossed his fine features.</p><p>“Despite the stories you might have heard, the fae mean no harm to humans. Our worlds are sealed from each other and rarely have interspecies contact. It would be my honour to heal and assist you in your return home.” The male stated, a hand resting over his chest at the mention of honour. </p><p>I took in his statement and searched for deceit. My mental tally of options was slim. It was reasonable to assume that any nefarious intentions he had required no trickery. I was alone, defenceless, and in his home. He could have easily killed me already, and reason argued there was truth to his words.</p><p>“You’ll understand my hesitation,” I trailed off, uncertain.</p><p>“I wouldn’t expect any less. I am not sure how you have ended up in my world, but let me prove myself to you. You can leave in the morning, but not all those in this realm are like me, and nightfall is not safe for anyone.” He said, voice haunted but sincere.</p><p>He had confirmed my fears about trying to leave, and it made me feel exhausted.</p><p>“Please, let us heal you if nothing else. That cut is quite deep, and you risk a comatose state if left untreated.” His words were urgent and confident.</p><p>“Us?” I asked, catching the pleural in his question.</p><p>“Yes, just my emissary and I live here. He is much more skilled at healing than I am,” The faerie conceded.</p><p>“I don’t think I introduced myself. I'm Tamlin, and it is my pleasure to meet you,” He said, a tilt to his head.</p><p>“I'm Feyre, and likewise,” I replied, copying the gesture he had given me.</p><p>“May I bring you to Lucien now, Feyre?” He smiled, gesturing towards a hallway on the ground floor.</p><p>“Yes,” I replied and followed him.</p><p>I took comfort in the weight of the bow and arrows still slung across my back. I was probably making a grave mistake, falling into a trap, and handing myself to a killer. I was out of options and daylight to do otherwise, and I hoped I wouldn't pay for it later.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Are you ready to meet my Lucien?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Lucien</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The heat starts to build in this chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Meeting Tamlin had taken my breath away, but meeting Lucien had set my nerves on fire. When Tamlin had mentioned a healer, I had pictured some elderly man in a robe with glass bottles tied to his waist. Lucien was not even wearing a <em>shirt</em> when we entered the room. </p><p>We had found him, lounging back in an armchair, long hair draped across his shoulders, and a folded paperback in one hand. He was taller than Tamlin but slighter in build, angular muscles hugged his exposed torso, and low slung trousers sat at his hips. Like Tamlin, he had a mask over his eyes--except his was copper and depicted a fox. When he moved his book to gaze at me, I noticed a horrific scar marring the left side of his face. </p><p>
  <em>What had happened to him?</em>
</p><p>My fingers tingled all over at the thought of touching his face. I wanted to feel the textures there and uncover the story. </p><p>There’s always been something about broken and beautiful things that made me want to touch them. Before our misfortunes, my father had been a merchant and brought all sorts of treasures to our home. My favourite piece had been a shard of ancient pottery with pomegranates on it. I loved running my fingers along its different surfaces--smooth then sharp. </p><p>Despite that angry scar, he was sun-kissed, with sinful, full lips, and one blazing russet eye. In the depths of that scar, a golden eye gleamed at her. He was still lovely, in a devastating and traumatic way. </p><p>My reaction to Lucien caught me a little off guard; I had never felt this way about a male before. The only intimacy I had was with Isaac, and that was just a fling. </p><p>
  <em>Gods, Lucien wasn't even human.</em>
</p><p>The golden eye spun and moved bizarrely, and I realized it was mechanical. Before he spoke, a smirk lifted one corner of that full mouth. My skin prickled, and I wondered if he could hear my thoughts.<br/>
When he spoke, my fantasy of straddling him in his armchair vanished. </p><p>“What the fuck is this, Tam?” An insolent glare in my direction. </p><p>“Lucien," Tamlin said in a stern voice. "Feyre here has found herself alone and injured on our side of the wall. I have promised her shelter and the aide of the Spring Court. I didn’t expect you to be so rude about this Vanserra; I expected you to heal her injuries. " He added, gesturing to the gash in my temple. “Now smarten up and tend to her wounds. That’s an order.” He finished. </p><p>I was speechless. I wasn't sure what I had just witnessed, but I knew causing dissent between the males was not a good strategy. I didn't want to piss off the male responsible for healing me, but I didn't know what to say. The authority in Tamlin's voice frightened me, and I shifted on my feet. Lucien's eyes bore into Tamlin, and he gave a curt nod. </p><p> “Feyre, I am afraid I have to leave you here with Lucien. I have an urgent matter to attend on the estate. Despite his outburst, you're safe here, and he will tend to your needs while I am away.” Tamlin said and gave a dazzling smile.</p><p>I wanted to beg him to stay. I didn't feel safe being left alone with the other male, but Tamlin’s ease was contagious. It was hard to say anything when he was smiling at me like that. It was so relaxing, like sinking into a warm bath. Regardless of how I felt, something in Tamlin's tone told me that Lucien would heed the order to assist me. </p><p>“Oh, Okay,” I said, overwhelmed. </p><p>Lucien stood to protest, but Tamlin was already striding out the door. My eyes followed the exchange, lingering on Lucien’s form.<br/>
<em>Gods, he was so tall.</em> </p><p>Mismatched eyes watched me. I averted my gaze, uncomfortable with the change in events. I was stuck with an angry redheaded faerie, and I didn't think that it would end well for me. 

We were in an imposing room--the wall to our right was lined with large windows, ornate and edged with scrolls of gold. A fire crackled up ahead in a great marble mantle that took up most of the wall. Books lined the remainder of the walls, and comfortable leather furnishings dotted around the space. The bookshelves increased the nervous feeling in my stomach; you didn’t have much use for books when you couldn’t read.

 I squirmed when I noticed Lucien’s eyes roamed over my pathetic appearance. I wonder how long Tamlin will be gone. </p><p>“Let's get this over with, remove your clothes human," he commanded.</p><p>At that, I met his gaze and flushed slightly. I knew he just needed to access the wounds, but being told to strip still made my stomach flutter. I gulped and shouldered off my bow and quiver, while Lucien busied himself in a nearby cabinet. I removed my cloak and folded it on a chair, I could see where the thorns had gouged deeply through the linen. Blood seeped to the surface of my body, and it looked gruesome. Taking a deep breath--I slowly began to unwrap the bands of fabric covering my torso, wincing at the pain.</p><p>Lucien had draped a linen sheet over a large table and cleared the surface. He had gathered some medical supplies and placed them on the table. As my wrappings loosened, the scraps of fabric I had secured over my body fell to the ground. My sleeves detached from my arms with some effort, dried blood sticking them to my skin. I had left a small binding over my breasts, but my abdomen and arms were fully exposed, and the blood there made me waver where I stood. </p><p>“That'll do for now,” he said, patting on the table. Timidly, I approached, hoisted my bottom onto it, and sat up straight. Lucien came to stand before my knees, inspecting my body carefully, eyes resting on the spot above my brow where I had smacked into the statue. He smelled like woodsmoke, musk, and apples. I looked away and worried my bottom lip between my teeth. </p><p>“I'll start with the head injury--lay down,” He said, stepping to the opposite side of the table. He picked up some gauze and dipped it in a basin. Gingerly, I lay on the table, bones shifting against the hardtop. Lucien blotted the gauze against my forehead, and I winced.</p><p>“Stay still human,” He chided, continuing to clean at the gash. </p><p>I counted my breaths and tried to calm my rising nausea. I closed my eyes as each pad came away--tinged with blood. Lucien was methodical and efficient, but I was a mess. Eventually satisfied with the progress, he dried the area.</p><p>“I will heal the rest with magic now, this will take a minute. Stay very still,” He ordered, lightly grasping the sides of my head and closing his eyes. My mouth filled with a metallic taste as magic bloomed in the room. A gentle heat came from his palms, and I could feel the skin on my forehead shift under his power. I sighed as my headache subsided, my eyes fluttered closed, and I relaxed in his grip. Clarity seemed to drift into my mind as the pain left. When his hands left me, I looked up into the mismatched pair above me. Our eyes only met a moment before he moved to my sides and picked up the basin. </p><p>“Sit up, your arms are next,” He instructed. </p><p>I raised and expected a rush of pain in my skull--but there was none. That was incredible, the power to fix such an injury in moments. I didn't know what I expected, but this was not it. I also hadn't anticipated the faeries to be so powerful, and it made me shudder. If Lucien could heal damage to my head--and likely brain, in moments; what else could they do? </p><p>My thought was cut short by a growl from my stomach, and my hunger slammed back into me. His eyes flicked from inspecting my arm to the sound. He looked irritated as he leaned over and scrolled something on a piece of parchment. </p><p>Wordlessly he resumed his work on my forearm, repeating the cleansing process. I groaned when he started finding the brambles embedded in the surface, my worries over his powers forgotten. He hushed me as he yanked the offending thorns out with metal tweezers. Fresh gushes of blood spilled over onto the linen tablecloth, and I swayed a little. I had bled and stripped animals for years, but the sight of my blood was a challenge. Lucien quickly bandaged and held pressure on the fresh wounds, gripping me firmly and preventing a nosedive onto the parquet flooring. I didn't know how much more I could take before getting some food in me--but then again I didn't risk losing it on the floor if I didn't eat.</p><p>Although I knew several more thorns were present, he moved away, and behind him, a silver cloche had appeared. He plucked off the lid, and a plate of roasted chicken glistened under it. Saliva pooled in my mouth--my pain forgotten. It was almost like he had read my mind, and I didn't care. He placed the plate on my lap and wrinkled his nose. </p><p>“Take a break, eat. Go slowly.” He warned then disappeared down the corridor. </p><p>The metallic taste of blood and magic clung to the air. My hunger had roared back to life with a vengeance. It had been years since I had eaten a meal like this, and the sight almost made me cry. Despite his warning--I inhaled the food as soon as he was gone. I didn't even stop to think of how it had gotten there.</p><p> I didn't even stop to think if I should be eating fae food.</p><p>I didn't even notice as he scooped up my bow, then quiver and carried them silently out of the room.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>What could that naughty fox want her bow for?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Retrograde</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The healing continues..</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lucien had returned after her supper in a thin cotton shirt, vastly different than the regalia Tamlin had worn. I was a little relieved; having both of our topless bodies so close together made me anxious--no matter how short he was with me.</p><p>Combining the smell of blood-soaked towels and eating too fast made me feel sick, but we continued for almost an hour. The thorns he removed fell clinking, one-by-one into a bronze basin. Clipped instructions were the only words that came from him as he worked, and I didn’t press him. I knew he didn’t want to be doing this, that he didn’t like me, but he hadn’t tried to hurt me either. </p><p>My blood stained the linen beneath me, the thorns’ puncture wounds seeming to bleed an abnormal amount. Lucien had to pressurize each area to limit the bleeding, and I became concerned about how much I had lost. If Lucien consumed human blood, as the tales described, he was doing a good job hiding it. At least I could strike one danger off my list. </p><p>Limb free from foreign objects and clean, he placed his palms over me, and that warm sensation engulfed me again. I decided that the feeling of flesh knitting back together was bizarre, but not entirely unpleasant. The warmth that spread from his big hands was actually comforting, and it brought me back from the edge of unconsciousness. </p><p>As the last of the injuries wove together, pink flesh covering the newly healed spots, fatigue settled over me. I hope they had a bath I could use because I was filthy despite Lucien’s cleansing. </p><p>When his hands drifted to the bindings at my waist and tugged, I flinched. </p><p>“What are you doing?” Blush coloured my cheeks, and a spike of fear ran through my heart. Maybe he thought I owed him; I didn’t know how things worked in the faerie realm. I was <em>not</em> about to offer myself as payment, no matter how attractive he was.</p><p>His pointed gaze fell on me, and he spoke slowly, “Human, you have more lesions along your legs.” </p><p>“Uh, I don’t think so,” I replied, not remembering any recent injuries. </p><p>“You do, I can <em>smell</em> them,” He stated, eyes tight to mine, fingers on my waistband.  </p><p>“Oh,” I replied, embarrassed. </p><p><em>What else could he smell?</em> I probably stank like dead animals right now.  </p><p>Impatience grew across those lovely features, his scar becoming more pronounced. </p><p>“Well?” He trailed off, looking for an answer. </p><p>“Ok, thank-you, sorry,” I mumbled and moved to pull the pants down, leaving my underclothes in place. Lucien’s long fingers helped me tug off the garment, and he unceremoniously placed them with the rest of my things. </p><p>Newly exposed, I shivered a little and examined my legs. Sure enough, a couple of scratches and one large gash decorated the side of my right thigh. I hadn’t even noticed these, but Lucien was thorough. The thought of him being able to smell things hidden under fabric layers did not sit easily with me. If the time came when I needed to escape this place, could Lucien hunt me down like a bloodhound?</p><p>Another chill swept through me, and in some sort of magical response, the fire crackled, sending warmth through the room. I tried to relax as Lucien nudged my legs apart and examined my right thigh’s broken skin.<br/>
My knees dangled from the table’s edge, and something about our position reminded me of an afternoon with Isac. </p><p>Memories of hands anchored into my hips and flesh relentlessly moving aginst mine filtered through my consciousness. I ignored the sharp feeling of desire between my thighs and focused on what Lucien was doing. Deft hands moved along my legs, and the sight of them wrapped around the soft flesh there was enough to make my breath catch.</p><p>
  <em>Could he smell arousal too?</em>
</p><p>That thought was enough to send a roll of prickly, sweaty heat down my body. I turned away and looked out the windows. I needed to distract myself, and the pain when Lucien picked bark pieces out of my thigh soon helped. </p><p>It was dark outside; all I could see was my reflection in the wall of glass. A dishevelled looking girl stared back, lounging on a table, a tall man was bent over her thigh, working diligently. My treacherous mind replayed that scene with Isac while Lucien started to spread his magic over the wound. </p><p>I jerked my head from the window, trying to escape the image, but I was uncoordinated and hit it against the table. </p><p>“Human, don’t fuck up the work I <em>just</em> did on that skull,” He warned. </p><p>I couldn’t meet his eyes, the vulgar language coming from him was dangerous to my control, and I bit my tongue. </p><p>
  <em>Where was Tamlin?</em>
</p><p>I tried to think of the unpleasant wintery woods and biting cold as his warm hands continued to grip my thigh, and I felt the tissue regenerate. </p><p>“You’re finished,” He said, stepping back and rinsing his hands. I rose, and could have sworn I saw him grinning, but he quickly schooled his expression into neutrality.</p><p>“I’ll show you to a room now,” He tossed a blanket at my chest and spun around, body stiff. I wrapped myself at my bust, not cold at all.</p><p>The marble was crisp on the pads of my feet as I followed Lucien through the mansion. He led me to the foyer and then up the grand staircase I had seen earlier. I tried to pay attention to the route we took, just in case. </p><p>After several twists and turns, he led me to a room on the house’s right side. As he opened the door, candles flickered to life, and a fire roared. He pointed to the metal pot for bathwater in the adjoining bathroom and basic garments in the dresser.</p><p>I thanked him, but he strode to the door and let it fall behind him without a word. </p><p>I walked around the room, feeling a bit bewildered. I heated several buckets of water and tossed them into the porcelain clawfoot I found. The rim of the tub had a thick band of golden carved roses around it. I sunk in and tried to remember the last time I had the luxury of bathing. Suds and bubbles covered the surface, and I found a bottle of something that smelled like minted rose and washed with it.</p><p>Marvelling at the soft expanses of my arms, I inspected Lucien’s work. There were several angry pink splotches but no trace of scabs or bruising. Absentmindedly, I undid the braid in my hair and combed through it with soap. Exhaustion was settling into every fibre of me. Before I drowned in the tub, I exited and dried off with a fluffy towel. </p><p>Naked and clean, I slumped into the king-sized bed and crawled under the blankets. I wondered why I didn’t feel unnerved at the situation, all things considered. </p><p>
  <em>If they wanted to kill you, they could have done it already, relax.</em>
</p><p> I huffed a bit and settled into the bedding, sleep taking me.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. A Trail of Roses</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was hard to say how long I slept. It was hard to say how long it had been since I had really <em>slept</em>. Sharing a bed with my sisters was cramped and uncomfortable. On many mornings, I found myself waking before dawn, unable to lie there any longer with Nesta's foot in my side. </p><p>Today Tamlin would help me across the wall. I would return to that cramped bed, and if I was honest with myself, I knew it would be a bit heartbreaking to leave this place. I realized that I did not have a very happy or comfortable life, despite the love I had for my family. </p><p>Thinking of breakfast, I swung to the edge of the massive bed and found the floor. I slipped from the covers and, a bit embarrassed remembered I had fallen asleep without bedclothes. I rifled through the dressers and came across a plain dress in a dusty rose colour, a slip, and some underclothes.</p><p>There were some other, more ornate gowns in the dresser, but that wasn't my style. It had been years since I had even worn a dress, investing in hunting clothes only. Elaine and Nesta still saw themselves as proper ladies, however, prizing their fashions above all else. Their preoccupation with materials had irked me to no end. </p><p>I fingered the fabric, it would have to do, but I needed something different to enter the snowy woods again. I thought about asking Tamlin, but it made me nervous. I already felt that I had received too much from the Faeries. </p><p>Thoughts of my debt to them haunted me as I got ready. I scrubbed my face and re-braided my hair, going over the events of the day before. A coiling sense of unease grew within me. There had been so many stories about faerie tricks, bargains, and traps. There was no safe way for me to repay that debt; we had no possessions, no fortune, or power. I wrung my hands as I considered some darker repayments they could demand. </p><p>I told myself they had given me no reason to be afraid. Tamlin was a perfect gentleman, and Lucien—was something different, but didn't seem intent on killing me regardless.</p><p>I looked at my face in the mirror and steadied my breaths. My reflection was distracting; I hadn't seen myself like this in so long. The dress was delicate, my was hair clean and styled, the grey in my eyes pronounced, and I could still smell the minted rose soap on my skin. Despite my concerns, I felt beautiful and had not looked this nice in years. A part of me thought about what their reactions would be to this, cleaner version of Feyre. </p><p>Shaking off my wondering thoughts, I exited the room and descended the staircase. I followed the gentle clink of glassware and sound of men's voices to a large sunny chamber. An atrium loomed above me, windows propped up with green-hued light glowing through. The room had a large table in its center, and the faeries sat at it, deep in conversation. I entered the room, their conversation drifted, and twin gazes fell to me. </p><p>"Good day," I mumbled, hoping it was an appropriate greeting. I paused in the doorway, unsure. </p><p>"Feyre, please sit," Tamlin gestured to a chair. </p><p>My skirts swept as I took the seat to Tamlin's right, across the table from Lucien. The redhead had grabbed his paperback soon after I sat down and didn't make eye contact with me.</p><p>Tamlin gave me a tight-lipped smile, but my brows knitted when I found a disruption in the perfect symmetry there. An ugly cut dragged through his bottom lip, and a bruise bloomed around it. I thought back to last night, and remembered the 'urgent matter' he needed to attend; what had happened?</p><p>"You're hurt," I remarked, quickly scanning the rest of him for injuries; I couldn't see any.</p><p>"Yes, there was a complication last night. It's nothing," His eyes drifted off, and he shifted uncomfortably at the head of the table. </p><p>"What's wrong?" I responded, worry growing in my stomach. </p><p>"Feyre, I...I meant what I said yesterday," He started, voice pleading.<br/>
"It's been our honour to provide shelter to you. I would not hurt you, but this realm is a complex place. Not every creature is safe, especially for a human like yourself. The estate is protected, but last night something got in," He gulped and gripped the cup nearest him. </p><p>"I believe it scented your blood and came for you. It attacked me while doing the nightly wards, but it got away before I could kill it," His eyes were downcast, and his voice was tense.</p><p><em>Scented my blood</em>. My body tensed like I stood at the edge of a great cliff. Something had been out there last night, looking for me. It had attacked Tamlin. I thought of the large gashes that had littered my body, the blood oozing from me as I wandered down that path. I must have left a trail of my blood all the way into the house. I thought of the deer in the wintery wood and the bright mark of its blood as I chased it. The reversal of roles sickened me.</p><p>Idly, I wondered where my bow had gone; I always felt better with its weight on my back. I felt Lucien's eyes on me then and looked up to catch him studying me over his paperback. The golden eye whirred softly, features thoughtful.</p><p>"I am so sorry," I breathed. "I put you both in danger by coming here, I just…" I trailed off.</p><p>"Please don't be upset, Feyre, it's… it's not your fault, I'll be fine," Tamlin's grip had released from the cup.</p><p>"Things like this happen, I wouldn't have even brought it up, it's just, I…I promised I would get you back to your side of the wall today. With this, I cant seem to think of a safe way to have you out there. I promise I will do everything I can to track it down and secure our path," He spoke quickly, visibly upset.</p><p><em>Oh</em>. He was just worried I would be mad. I didn't care that we couldn't leave today; I was starting to feel safe here, to be honest. The news of some creature prowling the forest re-enforced that feeling. I was thankful they were willing to have me, or at least...Tamlin was.<br/>
The guilt of bringing danger to his door still weighed on me, though; he made this seem like a minor inconvenience, but I wasn't convinced.</p><p>"But it hurt you," I said, voice small.</p><p>Tamlin's gaze darkened, a smile spread across his lips, and a shiver danced across my shoulders.</p><p>"It was a lucky shot," He answered.</p><p>The almost predatory shift in his demeanour frightened me a bit. I took in his broad shoulders, rough hands, and the bandolier on knives across his chest. I realized that the male in front of me had the body of a warrior. I imagined his figure on a battlefield, cleaving a great sword through enemies, ashen hair stained with blood. I had not picked up a paintbrush in years, but the painting unfurled in my mind; a fallen angel, coated in ichor and war. I shivered, but I was not cold.</p><p>I startled when Lucien flopped his book on the table and rose. He strode over to the other side and scribbled something on a stack of parchment.</p><p>"You look pale human, eat something," He mused, and out of thin air, platters appeared before us.</p><p>I blinked several times. He had done something similar last night; the roasted foul had just appeared behind him.<br/>
<em>That's a neat trick</em>, I thought. I wished that I could have had magical parchment each night my family had starved. I wondered if they would let me borrow a piece when I went back home but said nothing. </p><p>Tamlin grabbed at some scones and scooped various items onto his plate. I copied his actions and ate in silence. The food was excellent and strangely familiar; I wondered if that was for my sake or a similarity our worlds shared.<br/>
After two full plates, Tamlin's mood seemed to lighten; he leaned back in his chair and gazed over to me.</p><p>"Lucien did some good work, you do look much….better," He cleared his throat slightly and continued, "By that I mean, your wounds," He trailed off, looking a bit awkward.</p><p>"Thanks," I blushed. I must have made him uncomfortable yesterday, reeking of blood and dirt. Embarrassment hit me, and I thanked the gods for the bath and my skin's fresh feeling.</p><p>Lucian interjected, breaking his silence: "Speaking of wounds, I need to inspect the human's recovery," He gestured towards the door.<br/>
"Goodbye," Lucien said in a clipped tone. </p><p>Tamlin cleared his throat again and exited the room, leaving me alone with the fox-faced male.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Touch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>more heat!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I stiffened a little at being left alone with the quiet male. Reminding myself that he did not, in fact, hurt me yesterday, I met his gaze. Something there made my heart flutter.</p><p>Today he wore a green linen tunic with white trim. The colour made his hair look brighter, like a flame. He had mahogany coloured boots that reached just below his knees and soft brown trousers. The edge of a jewelled sheath peaked out from under his tunic, bits of gold catching the sunlight. He dragged two chairs to a window and instructed me to sit. On shaky legs, I obeyed.</p><p>I couldn't quite decide why I felt so nervous around him, was I afraid or attracted? I thought over last night and decided he had given no sign he felt anything other than pissed off. I beat back the thoughts—he clearly wasn't interested in me.</p><p>There had been a few boys at home who had thought I wanted them too. They had followed me into the woods, harassed me, even tried to kiss me. I remembered the sick recoil I felt at their misplaced and aggressive affection and decided I wouldn't do the same to Lucien. </p><p>I pressed my hands over my dress and looked out the window before us. Light streamed in, and a rainbow of coloured flowers dotted the soft rolling hills of the estate. The domed roof of a gazebo peaked over a large fig tree, and songbirds danced on the tiles. I mused that the upside of staying here a couple of days could be to explore its beauty, which didn't seem so bad.</p><p>Warm fingers gently gripped my chin and turned. Lucien stood before me, an appraising look to his features. He slowly shifted my face side-to-side, up-and-down. His other hand softly swept over the spot on my forehead that had been bleeding last night. My eyes fluttered shut at the light, tingly feeling, and I relaxed slightly in the chair. He continued to tap along my temples, and my breathing fell into a slow pace. The was no pain or trace of headache, only a slight pink discoloration. </p><p>Tamlin had called this place the 'Spring Court' yesterday, and I found that it fit. Everything here was lush and green, new and blossoming. The house was like a love song to the season or plucked from pages of poetry. Even Tamlin seemed to be created from the dust of the place. Everything about him exuded his court's rich energy, to the emerald green in his eyes.<br/>
Lucien was different. </p><p>Although his clothing shared the other male's hues, nothing about him matched the place he lived. His complexion was darker, and highlights bounced around his angular features like a flame. His hair tumbled down his back in thick silken lashes that seemed to change colour with the sun's movement.  Even the blazing russet of his eye seemed at odds with the gentle splendour of spring. They were both stunning, but something about Lucien seemed sharper and darker. Even his scar spoke of forgotten pain, which clashed with the newness that surrounded us. </p><p>When the light sensation of his fingers stopped, I opened my eyes and looked up through my lashes at him. He towered over me, hands still resting on the bottom of my chin, and there was something so <em>intimate</em> about it. I lost myself in his gaze, his hands scorched my skin, and my lips parted a sliver in response. The edge of his thumb brushed my bottom lip, and it gave slightly, dipping back as the digit dragged across it.</p><p><em>What in the God's name</em>—My mind stuttered, I sucked in a breath, my lips tingled, and I stared at him. The hand moved from my face, but it burned where he touched me. That mix of fear and desire licked down my belly and settled to my core.<em> What was he up to?</em></p><p>"Arms," He said, and I broke from my trance. I roughly pushed up my sleeves, fingers a bit jumpy. He examined them quicker than my face, but his hot hand still melted into the skin of each wrist as he turned it.<br/>
After he nodded in satisfaction at both arms, he sat down in his chair and brought it closer to me. His knees angled to my right, and I realized which part of me needed to be exposed next.</p><p>"And how's this one?" He murmured as his fingers reached to the bottom of my dress and brushed against my legs. His voice was airy and sounded like a lover's; I reminded myself of his disinterest and sucked in a breath. </p><p>"Yeah, it's uh, doing better," I breathed, voice a little shaky. I told myself, I was much more exposed last night on the table—but something about his hands slowly pushing up the dress' hem had my heart hammering.</p><p>When it passed my knee, he looked at me and smirked. The breath stalled in my chest. Without breaking eye contact, he pushed it to my thigh, where the gash had been. A thin strip of fabric still covered my lap, and I was thankful he had sent Tamlin away.</p><p>Lucien's eyes slowly drifted over me and rested on that bare thigh and his fingers smoothed up either side of my leg. The ones on the outer side gently prodded the skin there, still a bit reddish from the wound. It tingled when he touched it, but there was no pain. However, his <em>other</em> hand slid further up my inner thigh as he leaned in and examined the injured side. I didn't have a single mark on that side for him to be feeling, and those long fingers were sliding close to a very sensitive and very awake part of me.<br/>
I would have remembered him cleaning any marks that had been left <em>there</em>. I certainly would have remembered that warm healing sensation radiating from my inner thigh to the surrounding tissue. </p><p>His fingers burned, and I exhaled, feeling dizzy from lack of oxygen.<br/>
He arched an eyebrow at me, "Does it hurt?" He asked, a smirk still playing at the corners of his mouth.</p><p>"No," I blurted, but those fingers inched a bit higher, tips disappearing beneath the fabric covering my lap. My heart thundered in my ears, and my breathing was shallow. I thought my lips might have been blue from the lack of air by now. His eyes drilled into mine and—<em>Gods</em>, his fingers were clenching slightly against the soft skin there.</p><p><em>Would I let this faerie stroke me there? Put those long, firm fingers inside me?</em> Yes, yes, I would—Gods and reason be damned.</p><p>As if he sensed that internal struggle, his smirk deepened, and he pulled away, tucking down the hem of the dress as he withdrew.</p><p><em>What?</em> The singular word echoed in my mind.<br/>
"Tamlin was right; it is <em>outstanding</em> work; I'm done," He said, rising from the chair and dragging it back to the table. I felt that his <em>work</em> was not even close to done but realized he had been toying with me. That smirk was knowing—a grin that was fully aware of how I reacted. His eyes had been glued to my face the entire time; tension must have been written all over it.</p><p>Once more, fear slide into place with my desire. When I was around Lucien, my emotions were becoming a bizarre mix of the two. I had never wanted to run so badly from someone and straddle them at the same time.<br/>
Dangerous, Lucien was dangerous, I reminded myself. He was a faerie, not a harmless human boy. This was a game—he was a cat, and I was clearly the mouse. To what end, I didn't know, maybe immortals got bored, and playing with food was entertainment.<br/>
If I stayed here till Tamlin hunted down the monster in the woods, I needed to be more careful around this male.</p><p>Tamlin's knock from the hallway caused me to jump from my seat and tug at my dress.</p><p>"Lucien, are you done manhandling the poor human yet?" Came the call from the hallway.</p><p>In a low tone, meant for just my ears, Lucien purred: "Well, someone had to," Before I could react, he called for Tamlin to enter. I bristled at his comment, feeling the hair on my arms stand on end. </p><p>"Feyre, I had a fantastic idea, but I would understand if you're not up to it," Tamlin said, a warm grin gracing his features.</p><p>
  <em>I had a lot of ideas too.</em><br/>
<em>I was up for a lot of things right now.</em><br/>
<em>Why am I alone in a manor with not one—but two irresistible males?</em>
</p><p>"Yeah?" I replied, instead.</p><p>"Have you ever been on a horse?" He said with that grin again, and I nodded.</p><p>Fresh air sounded like an <em>excellent</em> idea right now.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Rosy Outlook</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The estate had an impressive equine collection despite the lack of inhabitants. Tamlin had saddled a chestnut gelding and a white mare for me. Lucien had opted not to join us, which was a relief.</p><p>We made a leisurely loop around the grounds as Tamlin inquired about the human world. He really didn't know much about the other side, and his interest in my life was contagious. Tamlin had filled me in a bit about the "wall' that separated the two realms. He told me it was magic and had been placed eons ago to protect the species after a bloody war. The details had been lost to time, but the enchantment would let pieces of the world mix on rare occasions. </p><p>Questions turned towards the events of yesterday, and I recounted my chase with the animal. His expression seemed to grow graver as I described blasting through the brambles.</p><p>"Didn't you feel anything?" He asked, eyes tracing over my arms.</p><p>"Well," I started, "My lungs were burning from the sprint, and I knew they had torn into me, but I was so hungry it didn't matter," I explained.</p><p>"Anything else?" Tamlin prodded, voice quiet.</p><p>I reflected for a moment, there <em>had</em> been something else, but I had attributed it to the turmoil in my mind.</p><p> "You know, it's hard to explain but, there was a sort of shuddering around me. I don't know if that really makes sense. Was that the wall?" I fiddled with the reins, uncomfortable at the memory. </p><p>Tamlin made a thoughtful noise and appeared to mull over my words. Again, his eyes rested on my covered forearms. "Maybe," He replied.</p><p>Thinking of the wall had made me curious about another feature that I had discovered. "Who made the lion statue?" </p><p>"Hmm, that's a good question," He smiled, countenance easy again.</p><p>"Legend has it, those were created by the Goddess, but no one is really sure who made them," He said with a shrug. "There's actually four of them, one at each gate to the Spring Court. We call them the guardians," He said with a fond look in his eyes.</p><p>"Are they all lions?" I inquired, maneuvering my mare around the roots of a large fig tree.</p><p>"No, actually, that was the southern border. There is a stag at the west, a bear at the north, and a wolf to the east." He replied, pointing vaguely in each direction. </p><p>I nodded my head thoughtfully, and we fell into a comfortable silence.<br/>
I tried to imagine how anyone could have carved the colossal statues and what they had meant. I wondered quietly what other ancient and forgotten monuments lay in the woods ahead. My thoughts turned darker, and I remembered the creature that had followed me from the southern border.</p><p>"Tamlin, what was out there last night?" I asked, voice quiet.</p><p>We had come to a crumbling alcove, with a small bench. It had stone pillars and half-dome shaped roof. Here the roses had grown wild, and they climbed throughout the structure. The spot was private, great fragrant lilac trees encircled them, and the sun's rays fell in streams past the roses.</p><p>Tamlin dismounted and led me to the semi-circular bench under the floral dome. He sat and propped his foot up onto the seat; His head bent back as one arm tangled through his hair. He was so beautiful like that, lounging against the crumbling stones. The red blooms juxtaposed with his fair skin, hair blowing gently in the breeze,<em> his body</em>; entranced me. Then there was his face, an inhumanly carved structure with bright green eyes that spoke of vitality. The bruised flesh near his lip stood out unnaturally, and guilt tormented me.</p><p>"Please tell me," I pleaded, suddenly needing to know.</p><p>"It's a Lesser Fae known as the Suriel," He said, eyes closed slightly. The sun's light damped a little as a cloud floated across it.</p><p>I turned over the word in my mind. It sounded strange, and I didn't know what to make of it. How many different Fae existed, and what made this one Lesser?</p><p>"Lesser?" I questioned, deciding to start there.</p><p>"The Faeries have two classifications, there's High Fae like myself, and Lesser like the Suriel," He stated, giving a slight shrug. "The High Fae look like…well, humans, but the Lesser take many forms," he finished darkly.</p><p>I interjected, "Hey now, you don't look like any human male I've ever seen," I said, and couldn't help but rake my gaze over his body, the pointed ears, the bizarre mask.</p><p>Tamlin rolled his eyes, but an easy laugh came from him; I settled beside him on the bench.</p><p>"Well, it's <em>true</em>," I flushed and tugged at the tops of my ears.</p><p>Tamlin leaned in slightly like he was about to tell me a juicy piece of gossip. "Besides the ears, I think you'll find that many parts of me are quite human-like," His smile grew wicked.</p><p>My eyes widened a bit, but I didn't back away. Heat simmered within me, and I fought the urge to dip my gaze at his trousers.</p><p>"Stop trying to distract me, tell me about the Suriel," I replied, curiosity winning out.</p><p>Tamlin leaned back again, a playful set to his jaw.<br/>
"If you insist," he started, sighing. "The Suriel is a waif, often robed in black, with a skeletal face. It would tower over you or me, and it's said that its kiss can drain the soul from both humans and Fae." He finished, folding his hands over a knee.</p><p>A profound shudder ran through me, and my spine stiffened. This was the type of monster the tales had warned about. A menace in black, hunting and feeding on your very soul. The thought of that thing stalking along the path, following the scent of my blood, curdled my stomach.</p><p>"Can it…Can it be killed?" I stuttered, heart slightly quickening its pace in my chest.</p><p>Tamlin caressed a thorn on a bloom that was close to him, his lips tightened.<br/>
"It's hard to say, I know it can be caught, perhaps a bargain can be made, but I'm not really sure," He replied, still toying with the line of thorns on the wall.</p><p>I sucked in a breath, "I see why you didn't want me going out there today."</p><p>He looked at me, and I couldn't read the expression in his beautiful eyes.<br/>
"I didn't want to scare you, Feyre. You will never have to worry about the Suriel. I won't let any harm come to you." He sighed, "The less you know about it, the better. For some humans, even the knowledge of these nightmarish Lesser Fae can be a death sentence."</p><p>I sealed my lips tight.  His bravery and concern touched me. I didn't deserve it; I was just a poor, hungry human girl.</p><p>I knew I didn't belong here, and danger would only follow me till I left, but I couldn't stomach the Suriel threatening my family. Sure, they relied on me for food, but I had set up some plans early on. Hunting was dangerous; we all knew that, so I created a contingency if I didn't return. The thought of the Suriel following me through the wall sent icy steel into my spine, and I knew I would die here before putting them in that kind of danger.</p><p>"Thank-you, Tamlin," I exhaled, overwhelmed with the emotions swirling throughout me. "I don't know how I can ever repay this kindness…" My hands travelled to my lap, and I locked onto a lilac tree, focusing on its buds swaying in the breeze.</p><p>"Feyre, your company is really the only payment I seek, I don't know if you've ever met <em>Lucien</em>, but he's not exactly the most pleasant companion." He teased. I looked at him and grinned at the exasperated expression there.</p><p>"Whatever could you mean?" I said and batted my eyelashes in mock innocence. He scoffed loudly, and I broke my composure. We both laughed, and the world seemed to brighten.</p><p>I realized how good it felt to just spend time with him—to talk, to laugh. It was innocent, and I didn't think anyone ever got to see this side of me. I was always Feyre the hunter, the provider, or the hard ass. Around Isaac, things had just been casual, a need. We never just sat and spoke like this, never spent time in beautiful places, enjoying life.</p><p>Maybe that was it; this sensation was so foreign because I rarely just enjoyed life, alone or with others. Sure, there were threats and dangers in the Faerie realm, but I wasn't alone anymore in dealing with it. From the start, Tamlin had sheltered and protected me from harm; I felt taken care of for the first time in so long. I felt safe.</p><p>I looked at him, and this time I saw him differently. I wasn't intimidated by the ethereal beauty and the warrior body. He wasn't a dangerous High Fae; he was a person that cared deeply and chose to protect others. So many of the qualities I admired in myself were there, but stronger. I wanted to know more about him. </p><p>"You shouldn't look at me like that," He whispered, a husky tone coming from his chest's depths.</p><p>The alcove felt smaller, and his intimidating build began to mean something different in my mind.</p><p>"And why's that?" I whispered back, leaning an inch closer.</p><p>"Because I'm a big bad Faerie who doesn't deserve it," He said darkly, eyes trained to the curve of my lips.</p><p>Before I could respond, excruciating pain ripped into my arms. A choked sound came from me, and I looked down. Fresh blood oozed through the fabric of my dress and dribbled in little rivers down my wrists. I pushed up my sleeves with shakey hands and blinked in shock at the shredded mess on my forearms. I screamed out as waves of pain rolled through me, and the cuts opened on their own volition, sending warm streams of blood down my arm.</p><p>Tamlin was calling my name, but I couldn't hear him through the pain. His panicked hands flew to my face, and I felt him trying to spread his magic to me, but the strain was too severe. It was like I was ripping through the wall of brambles again, and I felt dizzy.</p><p>"What's happening?" I cried, scared some invisible force was attacking me.</p><p>Tamlin's voice panted in my ear, and I heard him tell me to hold on before the alcove ripped away in a blur of motion.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Tamlin can be dreamy when he puts in a little effort ;)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Engulphed, Encircled</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Vanserra to the rescue.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"What's happening?" I screamed.</p><p>In a matter of seconds, I found myself in the manor. Tamlin all but thrust my bloody body at Lucien, who sat in his usual armchair.</p><p>The pain had started to subside, but the marks bled freely. The metallic taste of blood filled the study, and my heart beat fast with adrenaline. In vain, I tried to hold pressure over my forearms.</p><p>For the first time since I had met him, the expression on Lucien's faced looked genuinely shocked.</p><p>"Help her!" Tamlin roared, and the very bones of the house shook at his command.</p><p>A cool look settled over Lucien's features, and I got the feeling he didn't appreciate being <em>ordered</em> to do anything. Despite this, he stepped forward and gripped my shoulders. </p><p>"I'll help you," he said, a smug smile settling over his lips as he lowered me into the armchair.<br/>
"But you have <em>got</em> to promise me that you'll keep that idiot occupied more often; I'm getting real tired of his shit," He added and gave a withering glance at the other male.</p><p>"Now is not the time, Lucien," Tamlin fumed.</p><p>"Yes, I'll do anything you want, just help me, please," I said, with a faint laugh. I needed to diffuse their spat quickly; the room was spinning.</p><p>"It's going to be okay, human," Lucien said with the smallest hint of warmth.</p><p>"She'll be okay, Tam. Leave us," He repeated to the male.</p><p>Tamlin's eyes met mine. They were a bright emerald colour, and they searched my face anxiously. He was practically painted in my blood; it stained his fine green tunic in garish splotches. I absolutely hated seeing him like that.<br/>
I gave him what I hoped was an encouraging nod. </p><p>"Let me know as soon as you're done," He insisted and exited swiftly.</p><p>With Tamlin gone, the energy in the room dampened somewhat. Lucien's breath was even, and I focused on the steady rhythm there. He hovered his palms over my forearms, careful not to touch them. The pain was almost gone now, but I felt feeble. I complacently watched as he dipped his finger in my blood. He spun it under a beam of light, gave it a delicate sniff, then stuck it in his mouth and <em>sucked</em>.</p><p>My eyes widened, and my blood ran cold. I had been so <em>very wrong</em>.<br/>
I had stupidly crossed eating me off my list of dangers, and now I would pay the price for my foolishness. </p><p>"Just as I thought," He muttered, His tongue running along his bottom lip.</p><p>
  <em>What? Am I going to make a tasty snack? </em>
</p><p>I was incapable of motion, my mouth turned chalky. </p><p>"These are no ordinary wounds, sweet human," He purred, crimson dotting his bottom lip. "I can taste a hint of...<em>magical interference</em>.” </p><p>"<em>What</em>?" I stammered, utterly lost.</p><p>Lucien gripped my arms in response, and an overwhelming warmth coursed through me. It was different than before, and the tang of magic much more assertive on my palette. The room seemed to slip through my eyes before his hands were gone, and the world straightened.</p><p>I looked down. Blood still stained my skin, but the uneven mess on my arms had disappeared.</p><p>"It seems," Lucien panted, his breathing a bit strained, "You fought your way through the wall, and the <em>wall</em> left a mark in return." He said ominously. </p><p>"Those wounds were <em>identical</em> to the ones I healed yesterday." He added as the rise and fall of his chest settled.</p><p>"I didn't bleed like this yesterday," I replied, dumbfounded.</p><p>"That's...true, and probably my fault," </p><p>"The marks on your arm behave more like a curse; I miscalculated yesterday and used an...inappropriate technique," He mused, lightly licking his bloodied thumb.</p><p>"Well, I hope you got it right this time!"  </p><p>
  <em>What did he mean 'like a curse,' and why did he just lick my blood off his finger?</em>
</p><p>"Don't waste your energy, sweet human. For now, it's fixed."  </p><p>"What do you mean,<em> for now</em>?" I hissed, growing tired of his games.</p><p>"My guess is you crossed the wall at the same time yesterday that these wounds appeared today. Given the time your sorry ass appeared on our doorstep, it seems to fit."</p><p>"I suspect...." He began, a finger drumming against his jaw. "The same thing will happen tomorrow; at the same time. How....<em>clever</em>," He finished, eyeing my ruined dress.</p><p>My jaw quivered. It would happen again tomorrow, and the thought of going through this pain every day was unbearable. I took in a ragged breath.</p><p>"But you healed me, <em>twice</em> now, why does it have to come back?" I asked, determined to fight the future he lay before me. </p><p>"I'm a talented healer, but a curse is a different breed and not one I specialize in," He said with a sombre set to his jaw.</p><p>I closed my eyes; none of this had seemed real from the moment I had passed through that cursed wall. </p><p>"We can plan around it," Lucien continued.<br/>
"I think tomorrow the curse might not be so <em>vexed</em> at my intrusion, the bleeding should be less and maybe even the pain." </p><p>"I can optimize it in other ways, and of course, heal you after. Besides, Im sure Tam will scour the realm to help break the curse.”</p><p>A seed of hope grew in the pit of my stomach; I searched his face for signs of deceit. His eyes were clear, and I found them to be strangely honest.</p><p>I realized that this was the most I had ever heard the male speak; it felt strange listening to his voice. It was pleasant and almost melodic. I thought he might make an excellent musician. I could listen to him all day, and it was a welcome distraction to the dread taking hold in my chest.</p><p>"You should wash this off," He stated and gestured for me to rise. </p><p>I attempted to shove myself from the chair, but debilitating tremors ran through my legs, and I broke out in a cold sweat. I collapsed back, feeling lightheaded, and had the sensation of pins dancing across my tongue; I had lost a lot of blood in the past two days. </p><p>Without a word, Lucien's capable arms scooped under mine and lifted me from the chair. He secured one firmly around my back and steadied me as we began to walk to the door. He was doing more of the work to move my own body than I was, and waves of nausea swept up to the base of my tongue.</p><p>"I…I don't know if I'll be able to do this, to wash," I stammered.</p><p>Lucien was silent for a long moment.</p><p>"Do you want me to get Tam to help?" He offered, still supporting my weight against him.</p><p>I thought of Tamlin's smile, his laugh, and how breathing just felt <em>easier</em> around him. Then, I thought of him shouting my name and the horrified look on his face when the blood ran from my arms in rivers. </p><p>While letting Lucien bathe me wasn't on the top of my list of things to do, I didn't want Tamlin to see me like this. A part of me wanted to protect the uncomplicated happiness I felt around him, to keep it pure.</p><p>"No," I whispered, praying Tamlin wasn't close enough to hear me.</p><p>Lucien nodded silently, and we moved gradually up the stairs. He took me to a room I didn't recognize, covered in luxurious, warm colours. I closed my eyes and leaned into him, inhaling his spicy scent.</p><p>He sat me on a surface, and I heard the sound of buckets emptying into a tub. His hand braced my shoulders in warning before he began to undue the fastenings at the front of my gown; I kept my eyes closed. He made quick work of them and expertly shifted the dress from my shoulders.</p><p>This felt different from this morning, where hands lingered and wandered where they didn't have to go. It wasn't that he was being rough, but it was in no way tender as he peeled off the layers. </p><p>He tugged upwards at my slip, and I lifted slightly from the bench to help. Once it was removed, he helped me to my feet.</p><p>I opened my eyes to find my hands red with blood and ruined piles of clothes on the ground. He lead me slowly towards the bath in my undergarments but stepped behind me when we approached the tub.</p><p>One hand steadied my hips and moved to the metal clasp of my brassier. I didn't know why I felt a thrill of anticipation; Lucien had been so clinical about the whole thing, it probably didn't matter. He was consistently disappointed or disgusted with the idea of me, despite those confusing moments this morning.</p><p>A bit slower than the dress had been removed, he undid the clasp of my brassier. I shouldered it off, and it fell to the ground. Our hands met then at the waistband of my underwear, but he quickly moved his back to my hips to hold me as I shimmied the fabric off. </p><p>Naked, we stepped forward, and he gripped both of my hands and lowered me into the bathwater. I flushed, knowing he would be able to get an unobstructed view as we did it, but knew I risked another head injury without his help. He kept his eyes locked with mine as he lowered me into the bath, and I felt a bit better.</p><p>Lucien had filled the tub with a vanilla-cinnamon soap, and the bubbles it created afforded me some modesty. I didn't feel the need to speak as we washed the drying blood from my skin and scrubbed under my fingernails.</p><p>He massaged cleansers into my hair and across my arms, and I started to relax a bit more. Lucien spoke very little as he worked, and I was thankful.</p><p>I found myself lost in his features. I decided he had an androgynous quality to him. His hair reached down his chest in fiery silken lengths, his lips were plump and even, his lashes long and thickened, and his cheekbones were broad. The scar that ran through his copper mask again beckoned me to touch it, but I kept my hands to myself.</p><p>I wasn't really sure why I had picked Lucien to do this over Tamlin, but I suspected the scar played a role. Something about it told me he had seen ugly; he had felt pain and saw the reminder every time he looked in a mirror. Maybe this internalized horror made him such a good healer and allowed him to keep his emotions at bay.</p><p>The icy fear and lightheaded fogginess I felt before gradually turned into heavy fatigue, and I found myself thankful Tamlin hadn't been here.</p><p>When the last part of me was scrubbed and clean, he deftly maneuvered me out of the tub, managing to keep me mostly covered. Lucien instructed me to lay on the four-poster walnut bed, and he placed some pillows under my feet for 'circulation,' as he called it.</p><p>He started to rub a balm over my arms, but I fell asleep before he finished.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>What did you think? leave a comment!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. The Apple</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Feyre wakes up in Lucien's bed &gt;:)<br/></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I dreamt I was wandering through the woodlands. It was autumn, and bright leaves adorned the branches above me. Their siblings lay on the ground, in varying stages of decay, a fusion of harvest colours. My bare feet met the textures below me as I roamed a path.</p><p>I knew I was naked, but I didn't care; the breeze felt like a lover's caress against my skin. The scent of woodsmoke and spice twined around me, and from above, a lustrous apple dropped into my open palms.</p><p>"<em>Eat</em>," The wind said, coiling around my mind.</p><p>"<em>Feyre, you should eat</em>," A melodic voice called, and the forest muddled as consciousness came to me.</p><p>Lucien's sturdy frame was above me, pressing a hand against my shoulder. I refused to open my eyes, savouring how comfortable I felt, wrapped in plush fabric layers. </p><p>I should have felt wary, with him standing there, but only a pleasant warmth spread through me. Vaguely, I registered that this was not <em>my</em> room. Memories of yesterday started to re-surface, but I pushed them back.<br/>
<em>Since when did I call it my room?</em></p><p>The hand increased its pressure, and I stared accusingly at its owner.</p><p>Without comment, Lucien picked up a bed tray and set it over me. The aroma wafting from it tempted me enough to shift in the bed. I would accept the bribe of food any day.</p><p>My bare shoulders emerged, and I quickly caught the coverlet before my breasts were exposed.</p><p>"Um....do you have a shirt I could wear?" I wasn't wearing <em>anything</em>, but a top was a safe place to start. </p><p>"I brought a dress for you, but this will do for now," He replied, tossing a patterned robe to me.</p><p>It was made of fine black silk with a blood-red dragon coiling up the back. The dragon was sinister, an embroidered nightmare with horns and shimmery puffs of smoke rising from its nostrils. Instinctively, I knew it belonged to Lucien; it smelled of him and matched his personality better than the demure green pieces he wore in the court.</p><p>When he turned around, I wrapped myself in it and notched the tie around my waist. The material felt like cool water against my skin, puddling at my hips, and sending tiny shivers across my body.</p><p>I started to poke around the breakfast tray before me, and Lucien flopped into a chair in the room's corner.</p><p>I was famished. I happily devoured the deviled eggs, cubed potatoes, and tiny ruby red tomatoes.  The food was spicy and rich, and I wondered if the meal came from that magical parchment.</p><p>I slowed as I took in the last few bites, and my attention snagged on the room's peculiar appearance. </p><p>Sweeps of deep red and terracotta adorned the walls, and patterned rugs scattered across the polished hardwood. A red crushed-velvet curtain hung draped over the bathing chamber's entry, held back by a midnight coloured sash. Orange lilies sat in transparent vases, tumbling over in a cascade. Beside them, amber, crimson, and golden liquids filled heavy crystal decanters and sat atop a polished black credenza. My eyes floated to a heavy wrought-iron sconce hung from the ceiling on a chain, thick cherry coloured candles floating in its depths.</p><p>
  <em>What is this place?</em>
</p><p>Memories prowled into my mind; Lucien's hands lathering against my skin, lowering my naked body into the tub, undressing me. </p><p>I felt a phantom of pain on my arms, but the skin was unmarked when I looked down. I was cursed by the Wall. I couldn't help it as I shivered in response, and my skin tingled with the sensation of silk rubbing against it. </p><p>The sound of a log falling in the fire drew my attention towards the other end of the chamber. There was a double-storied fireplace that crackled pleasantly. It was deep mahogany, and the brackets that held the logs were cast-iron, depicting the serpentine curves of two vipers. The flames backlit them, and they flickered through the coals in a sinister manner. </p><p>Flanking the fireplace were bookshelves that stretched all the way to the ceiling, a small ledge ran across the middle, and a wooden staircase rested beside the hearthstone for access. Lucien sat on a highbacked leather armchair with a bound book in hand, almost blending into the flames that danced behind him.</p><p>I sighed, full of delicious food.</p><p>"This is your room, isn't it? "</p><p>"And what makes you say that, sweet human?" Lucien casually replied, eyes still fixed to the book in front of him.</p><p>I smirked; he seemed...<em>different</em>, like being in here changed him.</p><p>"You're not from here, are you?" I ventured, recognizing the truth behind the anomaly that was Lucien. Everything about the Spring Court clashed with the male. </p><p>He rolled his gaze over to me, and I stilled as his eyes swept across my chest. I could almost feel them as they travelled the ripples of fabric. </p><p> "My kimono looks good on you," </p><p>His tone sents tumbles of awareness down my belly, and the words drew my attention to the <em>situation</em> I was in. </p><p>I was in <em>his bed</em>, and nearly naked except for <em>his kimono</em> tied around my waist.</p><p> I had the sudden urge to peel the sleek garment off me but flushed when I remembered there was nothing underneath.<br/>
My flush deepened when I remembered he had already seen it all last night.</p><p> Lucien only arched an eyebrow in response.</p><p>Before he could comment on how I looked in his bed, I placed the breakfast tray to the side and slipped from the covers.<br/>
Re-securing the kimono, I realized it was way too long for me, and its glossy edges gathered at my toes.<br/>
I carefully walked around the colossal wooden bed and crossed my arms over my chest.</p><p>Mismatched eyes wandered over me, and I gave an accusatory stare in return.</p><p>"I'd like to get dressed now," </p><p>Lucien only pointed to a pile of clothes on a black dresser with golden inlays. I stomped over, arms still curled around my chest, attempting to avoid tripping on the kimono's trailing edges. A pale green dress with white trim was neatly folded there with a pile of coordinating undergarments.</p><p>I frowned; everyone here always wore green. It wasn't that it was a bad colour, but something gnawed at me seeing it there. I would have expected Lucien to place a slip of red silk for me to wear.</p><p>
  <em>What colour did I want to wear?</em>
</p><p>I didn't know, and I wasn't sure it mattered. I laid the pieces on the bed, shooing the thought from my mind. </p><p>"You can leave now," I said, giving a pointed look to the door.</p><p>Lightening quick, Lucien was towering over me, and loose locks of his hair fell forward as he met my gaze. </p><p>I sucked in a breath, alarmed, but not about to back down.<br/>
There was something...<em>predatory</em> in those movements that told me to be still, told me to assess, not to do anything rash. </p><p>He picked up the loose end of the silken sash that held the kimono together; I didn't stop him. Something about his touch on the garment eased that prickle of fear inside me, but it <em>shouldn't</em> have.</p><p>"Are you sure you don't need help," He purred, thumbing the fabric of the sash.</p><p>Lucien was either all over me or treating me like a plague; there was no in-between. I didn't know what <em>this</em> was, why would he put on this show, when it had all been laid bare last night. Was this morning different in some way? Was this different? This wasn't a good idea. </p><p>
  <em>What would he do next?</em>
</p><p>My curiosity won out.</p><p>I watched his hand as he slowly began to pull at the silk, and I could hear gentle clicking from his mechanical eye. Again, I felt like he knew my thoughts, and a kernel of suspicion grew about that intricate piece of technology. Doubt, curiosity, and heat swelled within me.</p><p>The knot came closer and closer to being undone, but Lucien's pace was slow and deliberate, giving me a chance to refuse. </p><p>My heart hammered in my chest, and thoughts zipped haphazardly about my mind. It was becoming hard to remember why this was a bad idea.</p><p>I watched it lengthen between us like a silken tether.</p><p>He was so hot and cold, and I couldn't keep up.</p><p>The knot unfurled silently, and I felt the room press in against me. </p><p>I gripped the robe's edges, preventing them from falling open.</p><p>"I don't think I'll need help, thank-you," I murmured, not meeting his gaze.</p><p>Like a splash of iced water, my mind cleared. Ultimately, Lucien put me on edge, and indulging in some fleeting desire was not a winning strategy. I should have stopped it sooner, but apparently, I liked playing with fire.</p><p>I still wasn't sure I wanted him to leave when he backed away from me with an amused look.</p><p>"Let me know if you change your mind," He called as the door shut behind him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Are you Team Lucien or Team Tamlin? neither? both?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Painted Rose</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tamlin was resplendent in a vibrant green jacket trailed by a brilliant white cloak. There was such anguish in his eyes as he saw me that morning, and I recoiled with the knowledge I had avoided him.</p><p>Lucien had brought him up to speed on his assumptions about the curse and its cause. In response, Tamlin vowed for action, results, and justice, and looking up at him; it was hard to argue otherwise. His confidence had returned with a ferocity I had yet to know.</p><p>Then he had done something I hadn't expected. He swept me into his arms in a hug that stole the breath from my chest. While I had tensed initially, the warmth radiating off him soon liquified my hesitation, and I relaxed against him.</p><p>It felt so<em> good </em>to be held. I hadn't realized how much I had needed it. How broken and scared I had felt when the curse opened my flesh like it  <em>owned me</em>. As he held me, and my toes lifted from the ground, the negative emotions of guilt, helplessness, and fear washed away.</p><p>The last emotion to slip from my heart did so in the form of a tear across my cheek. I had felt <em>ashamed</em>. I had felt ashamed in my weakness, to have hidden from him and to turn to Lucien instead. He obviously cared, and wasn't afraid of showing that--so why was I?</p><p>Tamlin rocked me soothingly side-to-side, and I sucked in an unsteady breath. I could try to be honest; he deserved that at least. </p><p>"I was so scared," The words sighed out of me, cleansing a wound I hadn't realized existed, a wound Lucien didn't reach.</p><p>"I know, so was I," He said simply, bearing the truth of his feelings like it was the easiest thing in the world. </p><p>I didn't know what to make of the conflict I felt towards Tamlin. I had only met him a couple of days ago, but already a part of me connected with him. His honestly was refreshing. I thought about all the emotions I had locked down inside me over the years, all the damage that must have done. Maybe I could learn to be different.</p><p>"What do you want to do today?" He asked, placing me down on the floor. </p><p>I thought for a moment, but an idea had crested in my mind immediately, and I decided to follow my heart.</p><p>"I'd like to paint," I said, a smile cracking my lips' corners. There would be time for curses, monsters, and all that, later.</p>
<hr/><p>Tamlin was an exceptionally horrible sitter. I had seen a painting of him over a mantle the day before and seriously wondered how the portraitist ever captured it. I told him as much, and he made a face that could only be described as <em>horse-like</em>.</p><p>I had laughed until my sides ached. I immediately decided this would be the expression I would attempt to capture and practically begged him to repeat the atrocity every five minutes. I don't think I could ever forget the elongated set to his jaw and the disfigurement of his usually perfect features, but I loved making him do it.</p><p>Nevertheless, he was still a <em> horrible  </em>sitter, and this eventually turned into Tamlin roaming about the room, balancing various objects on his head, lounging on several surfaces, all while making a ghastly horse-face at me.</p><p>A sort of cackling laugh came out of me that I didn't know was possible, and I could hear it echo through the court's empty halls. <em>Gods</em>, he was just so human sometimes, and it really took the edge off the fact that he was Fae. </p><p>In the back of my mind, I knew he was just distracting me. Purposely trying to make me happy, to sidetrack me from the afternoon when we anticipated my arms to re-open, but I didn't care. </p><p>It also worked to divert my attention from that moment with Lucien this morning; I couldn't <em>believe</em> I had let him undo the sash—and I didn't know what any of it meant. With Tamlin, none of that mattered; things were just  <em>natural.</em></p><p>We ate lunch on the floor of what I called "the oddities room," Which had several instruments, heirlooms, paintings, and other completely random trinkets scattered along shelves. </p><p>Every item held some sort of story, and I started to believe he was making some of it up. Surely giant winter birds didn't knit the hat he wore as a baby; that was <em>absurd</em>. Regardless of the truth, the afternoon passed by quickly and pleasantly. </p><p>I liked to hear myself laughing; after all, it had been years. But I loved to hear Tamlin enjoying himself. His laugher was bold, rich, and boomed from the halls. I couldn't imagine living here with Lucien had ever elicited such expressions from him, and I imagined he must have been quite lonely.</p><p>I could tell that Tamlin was the type of person who thrived around other people; he was gregarious, loyal, and passionate.</p><p>Laying on the floor of the room, cheek muscles strained from laughing at his finished portrait, I asked him why he lived in such a large house, all by himself.</p><p>"I don't live <em>all</em> by myself," He was sprawled beside me, hand combing through his golden hair.</p><p>"You know what I mean," I said, fully aware of the quality of company <em>Lucien</em> provided.</p><p>The light in his eyes dimmed, and for a moment, I felt terrible for bringing it up, but he had already taught me the value of honesty here. </p><p>He sighed, turning to examine the details of the ceiling, "It's a long story,"</p><p>"I have time," I said, venturing my fingers to rest over his. I was overcome with a need to soften whatever was coming.</p><p>He didn't stop his study of the ceiling, but his hands curled around my fingers and held them. I had never seen him so sombre. </p><p>"We didn't know he was coming when we planned the ball," A pause.</p><p>"But, how could we have....ever known," He said, his voice cracking slightly. </p><p>I waited patiently, my spine tingling with anticipation.</p><p>"My father...played a substantial role in the last war of the Fae, and in that time committed several crimes," </p><p>"And you know...I've had a long time to think about that, and even if he had <em>killed </em>me for it...I wish I would have stopped him." His voice was barely above a whisper, and he turned towards me. </p><p>"We can't change the past," I said, recognizing the regret that hung on his soul.</p><p>He looked back to the ceiling and nodded slowly, a long moment past.</p><p>"After...there was a lord who couldn't let the past die, and he came to the court that night," A wind whipped through the open rafters, and I wondered if I wanted to hear what came next.</p><p>"He slaughtered them all, he made me watch," Tamlin's eyes grew glassy as he traced the crown moulding's whorls with his gaze. On instinct, I moved towards his large frame and weaved my arms through him, cradling him against me. Stripped bare was the powerful Fae I had known, and here lay a traumatized person, paying for his family's mistakes. </p><p>He seemed to settle a bit more as my arms touched him, so I left them there. </p><p>"We tried to fight back, he even managed to take Lucien's eye. Before I could end him, he left, and cursed all those he touched, the very ground he walked on,"</p><p>"I can never remove this mask, and I can never leave this land either," He said solemnly, and I was shocked to learn that he too was cursed. </p><p>"You're still you," I said and boldly traced a finger over the scrollwork that encaged his face. The masks finally made sense. </p><p><em> I'm glad you didn't die. </em> I thought but said nothing. </p><p>"It still makes me so angry," he said, nuzzling into my neck. </p><p>"That's okay," I brought my fingers up to his hair, and I ran them through the airy texture. </p><p>I would have thought holding him like this would be uncomfortable, but all my muscles felt loose. I still had so many questions, but I knew he had shared what he needed to. </p><p>He still felt tense against me, and while I didn't know what I was doing, I experimentally stroked my fingers through his hair then down his tunic.</p><p>He shuttered but didn't move. </p><p>Laying with him felt <em>nice</em>, in a totally unexpected way. </p><p>"Sorry to interrupt," a sarcastic voice called from the doorway. </p><p>I startled, but Tamlin just held me closer.</p><p>"It's time to bleed, sweet human." </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Leisure</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Feyre has some thoughts.<br/>Warning: Lucien's about to make his move in the next chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A week or so passed me by.</p><p>Lucien and I eventually created a routine to deal with the curse.<br/>
Around four o'clock, I would go to him, the wounds would open, and he would heal them. These visits would have only required minutes, but early on, he discovered a secret. </p><p>I was sitting in his bedroom, this time fully clothed, staring at the skin on my arms. He had made a comment that I could do useful things with my time and offered a book from his collection. </p><p>I should have walked out of the room then and there. </p><p>"Is there something wrong with my books, sweet human?" </p><p> "No, I just don't want to read right now," I avoided eye contact. </p><p>"If there's something wrong with mine, then what kind of books do you read?" He had asked, sensing something amiss and circling like a pack of wolves. </p><p>I paused for too long; I tried to think of what my sisters had read, recalling conversations. </p><p>"You know...books about the latest fashions," I blurted out, flushing at the ridiculous suggestion. Even if I could read, that would be the last thing I would pick up, and we both knew it. </p><p>"Although you have <em>many</em> good reasons to lie to me, why is it you're lying right now?"</p><p>"Whatever Lucien, maybe I can't read," childish irritation grew inside me.<br/>
Why was he doing this to me? </p><p>He paused, scanning the vast wall of books. "What books would you <em>want</em> to read?" </p><p>I refused to meet his gaze. </p><p>"The series on how to torture fox-faced Faeries is at the top of my list," I replied, hoping to make it sound as scathing as possible. </p><p>"You don't need to read any books on that sweet human, you're doing just fine," </p><p>Gods, I hated this man, how had <em>I</em> tortured him? He just made me confess I was illiterate; did he know nothing of manners?</p><p>But then my arms opened, and while it bled and hurt less than the day before, it was still unpleasant. Lucien reclaimed his mask of indifference and treated the wounds. We dropped all previous conversations in favour of silence. </p><p>When we finished, I went to leave, but he called out to me.</p><p>"I'll make you a bargain, in exchange for this healing business, you'll come early each day and let me teach you how to read,"  </p><p>"And what would be the point in that?" I asked, eyes narrowing. </p><p>"My own entertainment, sweet human," He replied, voice as smooth as silk. </p><p>
  <em>He can't be serious.</em>
</p><p>He was. </p><p>Lucien was a brutal teacher, far worse than when I trained from the village hunters. He pestered, he demanded, and he worked me until I couldn't stand his presence. But then, there were moments where it would align, and I understood. The ownership of the words tingled in my mind, and I wanted <em>more</em>. </p><p>I don't know why, but I didn't tell Tamlin about the lessons. Part of me felt nervous about what he might think of how Lucien and I spent our time together each day. Because he hadn't been just a brutal teacher, he had also continued to intermingle his distaste with rapt interest. Continued to toy with that flush of heat that raced around my body when he was near. </p><p>I was becoming more aware of Lucien's intentions, the barely veiled threats to my modesty, the pokes at my reactions, and his voice's curl. It was in the way he touched me, how he called me a <em>sweet human</em>, in those searching mismatched eyes. He stripped me bare on the regular, and while I was careful, I knew I should have felt more fear. After all, he only started calling me a sweet human<em> after</em> licking my blood off his finger.<em> I might have been born at night, but I wasn't born last night</em>. </p><p>But the truth was, between the reading and constant edge of our conversations, I enjoyed how sharp my mind felt around him. I frequently told myself this was just a game to him, that I shouldn't encourage it, but I couldn't help it sometimes. </p><p>Above all, I should have feared the way he made me feel as I learned to read. There was something about it that I couldn't quite put into words. It was powerful and heady; it meant so much more than the flirtatious banter. I hated those lessons, but I also never wanted them to stop.</p><p>The rest of my time was spent with Tamlin.<br/>
There were so many spots like the "oddities" room in the manor to discover. I didn't know who was more excited, me to learn, or Tamlin to share. Evident in every conversation was the love he had for the place and, despite being trapped here, a protectiveness. </p><p>My favourite piece had been the golden parchment that detailed the line of descendants of his court. Thanks to Lucien and my new abilities, I found his name at the end and puzzled at the dates. They looked similar to the frame of time humans used, but this would have made him hundreds of years old. When I asked him about it, he shrugged and explained the near-infinite lifespan of the Fae. It was hard to comprehend, but I didn't think he was lying. Sometimes it was easier to accept the utterly ridiculous before you thought too hard about it—and a five-hundred-year-old Faerie fit into that category. </p><p>I was curious about how old Lucien was, but I didn't ask.</p><p>The only oddity that I didn't find fascinating was the massive, outstretched span of wings, framed and hung high above one of the vaulted studies. They were black, membranous, and deadly talons curved from both ends like they belonged to a colossal bat. What kind of creature did <em>these</em> come from? I didn't think I wanted to know. </p><p>Tamlin noticed my gaze and explained they were a trophy from a dangerous Fae his father had killed. While I had seen many hunters bring home trophies of their impressive kills, it was something that never sat easily with me. How was death dignified by a head—or <em>wings</em> mounted to a wall? I remembered what Tamlin had said about his father's war crimes and guessed that there was no intention of dignity in displaying this creature's wings, making it much worse. </p><p>Tamlin had surprised me then, brushing his fingers against mine. </p><p>"Yeah, I don't really like it either," He murmured, and lead me away by my hand. </p><p>Every time our fingers met like that, a jolt went through me. I had learned so much about him in this last week, and it only drew me closer. The hands I once might have feared now represented something very different. While my stomach didn't dip with lust-soaked dread when he touched me, I did feel immense happiness. </p><p>I could tell Tamlin did too. His eyes glimmered, and laughter sounded out of him; each smile I gave was met with his own. I didn't know how this wonderful person could have been confined for so many years, cursed to remain with Lucien. </p><p>I thought that what we must have felt was a bit similar because although I had my family around me and he had Lucien, we had both been so isolated and cursed in our own ways. If we discovered a way to break my curse, I wondered if we could apply it to his as well; neither of us deserved this. </p><p>I found it easy to get caught up in the life Tamlin and I had together, the gentle build of our relationship, his home's beauty, and days filled doing anything I wanted. But looming over this was the truth that I didn't belong here; seeing my blood cursed out of me each day was a reality check.</p><p>Terrors lurked behind the Spring Court's gilded gates, things that would follow through the wall and feast on my family. Even if I did make it home, I would be shunned as a witch if the villagers noticed my arms. The sinking feeling that I might never be able to return began to take route in my gut. As the days ticked by, my hopes dwindled. </p><p>Secretly, I missed my family. They made my life hard, but they also made it worth living. Nesta's foot in my side every morning, my father's useless carvings, and our hardships became cherished memories. I wondered if they would believe what happened to me; if they were still hungry; if they had been forced to move to the continent. </p><p>I needed to get back to them soon, but I also knew it wasn't safe for me to leave yet. The rational part of my mind knew they wouldn't have left the village. I told myself we had contingency plans. I reminded myself to not do anything rash. </p><p>Despite the leisure of my days, a sense of helplessness and silent rage brewed within me. </p><p>
  <em>Would I ever see them again?</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>reality bites, but so do my characters &gt;:) see ya next chapter for Lucien smut.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Tight-rope of plans</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Please tell me what's wrong?" Tamlin asked as his thumb rubbed gentle circles on my wrist. </p><p>We were outside, beside a fountain to the north of the estate. Masonry joined the back of the great house with a courtyard that sprawled before us. I had been painting a landscape of the gentle hills that rolled to the north. It was fairly early in the morning, and this was the fifth activity I had lost patience with. </p><p>I focused on his thumb moving across my wrist, It felt...<em>nice</em>. </p><p>I learned that Tamlin was a touchy sort of person, similar to how Elaine had been. He swept a hand to my back when leading me somewhere new, held my hand when we took in the gardens, brushed little escaped hairs from my face when we spoke. Initially, my heart had fluttered each time, but eventually, it became routine. I had even noticed him doing similar things with Lucien—albeit a bit different.</p><p>I liked it when Tamlin touched me, and the thumb that now drew lazy circles over my wrist relaxed me. Tamlin was right, something <em>was</em> wrong, and he was quickly becoming an expert in sensing my emotions. </p><p>"It's just…" I struggled with the words to describe what I felt.<br/>
An unfamiliar grating feeling lived in my spine, and each day it grew worse. I wasn't used to this sort of lifestyle, lounging about, painting,<em> admiring males</em>. Usually, I would be out in the woods, taking care of the cottage, or prepping kills for future meals. Each day was always filled to the point of exhaustion. </p><p>Leisure was making me uncomfortable, but I didn't know how to tell him that. Tamlin had opened his home to me, protected me, spent his days catering to my every wish, and his nights hunting for answers to help me return home. </p><p>Now I sat here, with everything I would have dreamed of a fortnight ago, feeling restless. I was also nervous about the amount of time I spent away from home; how long would finding the Suriel take?</p><p>I didn't know what I wanted, but the tension built up in those lessons with Lucien or even the playful moments with Tamlin was getting to me in its own way.</p><p>"<em>Sweet Human</em>," The words sliced around my mind.</p><p>I backed away from my painting and paced, praying to the Gods I could communicate something polite to Tamlin.</p><p>"I just feel a bit pent up, like I need to stretch my muscles and go for a run or something," I said.</p><p><em>Or something</em>? Other ways to release the tension flitted through my mind; my fingers over Tamlin's hard chest—or was it Lucien's body I imagined?</p><p>"I get it," Tamlin replied, bringing me back from my mind's depraved depths. </p><p>"Yeah?"</p><p>"Well, you were pretty active before coming here; I know if I miss morning training with Lucien, I get the same way," He replied, shrugging and running his hands through his hair.</p><p>"Why don't we go hunting together in the woods? Close to the manor, of course, you would be safe," </p><p>I turned it over in my head. I did enjoy hunting, and while I was a bit concerned about the Suriel lurking in the woods, I had seen enough of Tamlin to know he could be deadly when he wanted to be. I trusted him.<br/>
_____________________________________________________________________________<br/>
My disappointment was palpable when something came up on the estate, and Tamlin had to cancel our plans a couple hours later. The thought of stretching my legs and slipping through the forest unseen was precisely what I had been missing. I had practically torn apart my room looking for my bow—which I didn't find. But I was sure Tamlin would have something I could borrow. </p><p>He had left before lunch, and I couldn't help the sadness that stemmed from his departure. It didn't seem to matter how remorseful he looked when he left; I was still disappointed. He had made me promise not to go out there by myself, concerned for my safety. I understood, but I hated waiting.<br/>
I picked at the food before me, not tasting any of it, sighing heavily.</p><p>"Sweet human," </p><p>I tensed, but ignored him; I wasn't in the mood for his games today.<br/>
"I can help with that, you know," Lucien continued, taking a long sip from his wine.</p><p>"With what?" I shot back, he didn't know what I was feeling, how could he help? </p><p>"You know what? Don't answer that," I stood, slightly ashamed for taking this out on him; I felt like Nesta. </p><p>I pushed the chair in and took a step toward the door, but he suddenly blocked the room's entrance with that annoying lightning speed. </p><p>"You know exactly what I'm talking about," He purred, moving towards me. </p><p>Tension coiled tighter in me, replacing the sadness I felt over my afternoon.</p><p>"Tamlin and I had plans today, you're not him, so I don't see how you could help," I said, lifting my chin up in defiance. </p><p>He took another step forward; I held my ground. </p><p>"Oh, I know exactly what Tam planned to do with <em>you</em> today," </p><p>Why was he saying it like that? Like we weren't going hunting, like we had been going out there to do <em>something else</em>. </p><p>Lucien took another step forward, and I took one back. He smiled, and the copper mask gleamed as it caught a ray of sunlight.</p><p>"You obviously don't," I said, fighting the urge to back up again.<br/>
Gods, I need to control my breathing. </p><p>
  <em>What was he talking about?</em>
</p><p>"Then tell me, what do you want to do?" He was close enough now that I could smell his sweet mix of smoky cinnamon and vanilla, his voice dropped low, and I felt his words curl around my legs and thighs. </p><p>Unconsciously, I took another step, bumping into the table. </p><p>I looked back, flattening my palms to steady myself, but Lucien had taken the opportunity to close in. </p><p>His hands came to rest on either side of mine, head tipping down to look me in the eye. </p><p>My heart pounded the walls of my chest as the tension within me coiled. I remembered the way his hands crept up my inner thigh, his fingers pushing down the bottom of my lip, the silken sash of his kimono unravelling between us.  </p><p>This was dangerous…If Tamlin walked in…</p><p>But Tamlin wouldn't walk in; I knew that, and Lucien knew that.</p><p>His body angled closer, closing the gap between us. Scorching heat radiated from him in waves, I felt all the way through the thin chiffon dress I wore. </p><p>Slowly his head lowered towards my right side, and I may have tilted to accommodate the movement. </p><p>Hot, even breaths chased across the skin of my neck, and I felt the hairs on my arms stand up on end. Tresses hung close to my face, and I was overwhelmed with smoked vanilla. </p><p> I knew that if I gave in to this, I would certainly get some form of release, but at what cost? After all, Tamlin wasn't even here. Would this upset him? Did he care about me in that way?</p><p>The feather-soft feeling of Lucien's lips skimming my neck, close to my clavicle, erased my brain. Instinct and need took over, causing me to push my pelvis up against him. He groaned and pressed himself into me, lips curling into a smile at my neck's side.</p><p>There was nowhere to go; I was pressed into the table's edge, trapped within his arms, and caught by the neck. Each breath I took pressed my chest into him, and his lips feathered up and down, tasting my skin.</p><p>"Lucien," His name came from my mouth in warning—but it sounded more like a plea. I inched back, lifting myself onto the table, trying to create some space.</p><p>I needed to breathe, to think.</p><p>The slow circuit of his lips didn't stop as he stepped between my legs, pushing me further on the table.</p><p>"Yes, sweet human?" His words were slow, and I wanted to drown in the lust they held. A burning hand came to wrap around the front of my neck and twist it, to improve his access.</p><p>"This…" I began, needing to regain some control of the situation. His hand could clench and choke the life out of me in seconds.</p><p>
  <em>Why am I so turned on by this?</em>
</p><p>"This is exactly what you need," He murmured against my neck, and his lips pressed firmly into me, taking a slice of skin between them.</p><p><em>Gods</em>. It felt amazing, my lips parted, and I closed my eyes.</p><p>He sucked at the skin between his lips, and an involuntary moan came from me in response. Hardness pressed into my core, and I shuddered.</p><p>"This can't happen," I said, unsure how I managed to make the words come out.</p><p>He dragged his mouth off my neck, and the spot he was tormenting tingled in his absence. I felt the pressure ease from my body as he straightened.</p><p>His mismatched eyes blazed into mine. The russet one had turned an unnerving molten red colour.</p><p>"Let me help you another way then," He breathed, voice barely above a whisper. He had clearly been swept up at the moment just as I had—where were the games now?</p><p>And he almost sounded like he was <em>begging</em>. I decided that I liked that sound very much.</p><p>"Take me hunting," I said, emboldened by the power I now seemed to hold over him.</p><p>His lips parted into a wicked smile, one that almost had me wrapping my legs around his waist and drawing him down to my mouth.</p><p>"My second favourite past-time," He said, leaning back and straightening his tunic.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>up next, out to the woods. How do you think Lucien will hunt?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. The Stag-Head Forest</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The meadows past beneath me in a blur, while wind whipped the borrowed crimson cloak along my sides. Aleron's powerful body moved beneath me, hooves eating up the earth. Lucien's mount; Tariq, raced at our heals, spittle dripping from its mouth like a rabid beast escaped from the pits of hell. The gentle hills with their placid valleys posed no risk for the pair, two streaks of black violating the verdant land. </p><p>It felt <em>so damned good</em> to cut through the park at breakneck speeds, and the tightening inside me lessened somewhat. The bow strapped to my spine didn't move an inch as our gallop intensified. It came as no surprise to learn that the magnificent stallions belonged to Lucien; I wouldn't have expected less. Tamlin had never saddled a mount like <em>this</em> for me. </p><p>I could hear Lucien roaring behind me for Tariq to go faster, and edged on by his twin, Aleron drove himself harder. I glanced back at Lucien, he had collected his hair into a knot at the top of his skull, but bits had come loose around his face. He was clothed in all black, and his cape fluttered violently behind him. He looked as demonic and powerful as I must have felt. </p><p>I hadn't been able to give him what he had desired in the dining room, but he looked like he was having just as much fun as I was right now. The edge of a forest crested the horizon, and I saw my victory. </p><p>The sound of Lucien's calls escalated behind me, and the distinct crack of his riding crop cut through the air. Neck and neck, the stallions charged ahead, frantic to outdo each other. </p><p>Aleron pulled ahead, but I slowed him as I approached the edge of the trees. It was clear to everyone—even to the horses, who had won. </p><p>I dismounted and gave him a rough rub on the nose in congratulations. The hell-beast actually nibbled my fingers in response. </p><p>Lucien was beside me, out of breath and breathtakingly handsome at the same time. </p><p>"Look's like you lost, fox-boy," I said with my hands on my hips. </p><p>"Fox-boy?" Lucien sneered, clearly not talented in the art of graceful defeat. </p><p>I smirked at him, revelling in his reactions, the growing power I held over him. </p><p>I unclipped the bow from behind my back and tested it as I caught my own breath. Lucien had shown me to the armoury before we left, and while I had over a hundred to choose from, the charcoal armament had caught my eye immediately. </p><p>I flexed the bow towards Lucien—sans-arrow, aligning his face in my sights. </p><p>A wicked smile that touched the scarred flesh of his eyes swept across him. He reached back, crossing his arms and unsheathed twin short-swords the colour of night. </p><p>I didn't know if I could be more attracted to anyone at that moment. The figure in all black, swords loosely held at both sides, was provocative. I loosened my grip on the string and looked away. </p><p>"So, what are we hunting? And if you say, '<em>sweet humans</em>,' I swear to the Gods, I will actually hurt you."</p><p>Lucien's grin disappeared. </p><p>"I guess we could also hunt down a stag, but I liked your first idea <em>much better</em>," His russet eye flashed a hint of red as his chin dipped, and he stepped closer.</p><p>Ignoring his suggestions, I turned to hitch Aleron and recover the arrows from the pack. </p><p>All the insinuations and flirtations in the world couldn't dampen the excitement I felt. </p><p>
  <em>We were going to hunt a stag. </em>
</p><p>It felt so liberating to be out again, no matter who I was with, or the condition it was now under. </p><p>We pressed through the woods, I led, and Lucien held up the rear.<br/>
When I inquired about the Suriel, Lucien seemed bored, claiming there was zero chance it would get us out here. Encouraged by his indifference, I let my senses unfurl and memorized the land around me. </p><p>"So, why are we out here?" He asked, drawing my attention from the brush. </p><p>"I don't know," I started, again struggling to politely explain the turmoil that had been building within me. </p><p>"I just needed to get out of the house, be a little bit more like myself. I'm worried… about my family and getting home, I guess," I finished, deciding that was a reasonable explanation. </p><p>"That's understandable, a lot has happened, you must feel overwhelmed," He replied, shocking me a bit with his insightfulness.</p><p>
  <em> Since when did Lucien care about how I felt?</em>
</p><p>"Truthfully, I feel hopeless. I wish I could do something to help, but I know it's not safe for me." I replied, still not wanting to undermine Tamlin's efforts. </p><p>"I think you can handle yourself, as long as one of us is with you. I wonder if there are any clues you could pick-up at the wall. Sometimes magic leaves an imprint that's unique to those affected." He mused, stooping down to examine a broken branch. </p><p>"There's a stag here, lets head north-east," He declared before I could respond. </p><p>He kept the comments to a minimum as we tracked a disturbance pattern in the brush leading north. I watched as the ominous metal glinted in the sunlight ahead of me, still uneasy about the weapons Lucien strapped to his back. Lucien had claimed he preferred to use his swords for hunting—a vicious method, in my opinion, but had agreed to let me take the first try with an arrow on anything we found.</p><p>He called this parcel the 'Stag's Head Forest,' and distantly, I remembered the four guardians that marked the spring court's compass points. I couldn't stop myself from studying the tree line, eager to spot weathered stone antlers peeking over the branches.</p><p>Lucien made to speak, but I had already seen it. A massive stag camouflaged into the trunks fifteen yards ahead of us. Mid-step, my foot halted, and a flexible, silent quality flooded my body. Lucien held back, seeming to uphold his promise to let me have first dibs. From this distance and with this weapon, I stood a chance of taking it down swift and painlessly. The stag dropped its snout to the earthen floor, distracted. </p><p>I took an arrow and let my instincts click into place. It was just me and the beast, one and the same. My breath was a wave caressing the shore and ceding defeat to the sand, a steady tide within me. My heart adjusted in my chest, slowing its pace to ride the flow of my breath. The arrow was strung and aligned in my hands without conscious thought. Sound came to me like it was embedded in water, each note a ripple in the net my mind had cast. </p><p>The stag raised its head leisurely, a candid picture of its last moment. Like a magnet, my shoulders swivelled, and the metal arrow tip pointed to the creature's left eye socket. </p><p>I inhaled, absorbing the energy, the vitality around me, the prelude to chaos. </p><p>A warm breath coasted down my back, distracting me as I let the arrow fly. </p><p>The arrow pierced through the ear of the beast, and it reared in pain before speeding away. A flash to the day I crossed the wall stole through my memories and froze me to the spot. </p><p>"<em>You're here</em>," someone had said that. Before I hit my head, a male voice had announced my arrival, like someone had been waiting for me. </p><p>Lucien's face was beside mine, "My turn," He whispered. </p><p>His skin seemed to vibrate, and then his entire form vanished in a tight swirl of complete darkness. </p><p>
  <em>What in the Gods name?</em>
</p><p>Lucien had re-appeared in front of the stag before I could form another thought. </p><p>Twin short swords were raised before the animal could change directions. In a single, powerful motion, Lucien crossed the blades in front of him and cut through the neck of the stag, each blade meeting in the middle and slicing unchecked through flesh and bone. The headless body sprayed blood onto his face, staggering forward and slumping to the earth. The head made a sickening thud.</p><p>Bathed in blood, Lucien looked to the sky in triumph. It didn't seem like the dripping gore bothered him; in fact, he looked excited. A maniacal smile cracked his crimson face, and the hairs on the back of my neck rose. </p><p>I knew I should go to him, he made the kill I lost, but I didn't want to. How many times had I told myself he was dangerous? And how many times did I ignore my own advice? Memories of Lucien casually sucking his fingers and licking my blood away with his tongue threatened to choke me. </p><p>
  <em>Sweet Human. </em>
</p><p>"Where are you hiding?" Came a voice that sounded detached and filled with need. I shuddered and moved to step into the shadow of a vast hemlock. I didn't want to go to him; something had slipped into the body of the male I had come to know. Deep down, I knew it had always been there, but that didn't mean I was ready to meet it face-to-face. </p><p>"Come out, come out, wherever you are," He called, harkening back to games children played in the woods, the short swords dripped at his sides, christened in blood. </p><p>I could never run from him, and I had never wanted to run from him before. He scanned the clearing, and I stiffened, catching the movement from the corner of my vision. Soon he would be able to find me, by scent or by sight. </p><p>"Lucien?" I called out, playing the game and ignoring the bloodlust that coated his every expression. </p><p>He appeared in front of me in that impressive trick from before. The air thickened and wavered, spitting out his form from the void. The blood and gore travelled with him in whatever magic he used, and up close, it looked a bit like he had been dunked in blood, a macabre candy apple. </p><p>I fought to settle my breathing; Lucien would not hurt me. I remembered the male that lowered my body into the tub, eyes respectful. The male that washed, healed, and cared for me at my weakest points. </p><p>Lucien's posture seemed to be relaxing, immeasurable shifts within his muscles that brought tension from the weapons he held. Clarity settled in his eyes, and the golden one stopped its jagged movements. He smiled again, but this time it was easier—similar to one Tamlin might give. </p><p>"That was a bit excessive," I said, trying to lighten the situation. </p><p>"Was it?" He replied, drops of blood splashing on the leaves below him. </p><p>A nervous giggle left me; I released the metal clasp of my cape, and it tumbled off my shoulders, Lucien's eyebrows rose, but I ignored him. I took the edge of the crimson cloak and stepped forward to wipe his face, still on edge, being so close to him. </p><p>Lucien was as still as a statue as I cleaned the blood from him, and I smiled at the reversal of roles. How many times had he done something similar for me? It felt good to return the favour, even if the situation was vastly different. </p><p>"You cheated, though," I said, my smile widening to a sickly-sweet grin. Did he think I wouldn't notice him breathing down my neck as I released my arrow? </p><p>"I couldn't help myself," And a touch of madness brushed through his russet eye. </p><p>"Will you butcher it with me?" He asked, looking contentedly towards the slaughter. </p><p>"Of course," </p><p>I discovered that I was clumsier with a dagger than Lucien, nicking the pelt and taking much longer to process my sections than he had. I enviously watched as he removed pieces with long fluid motions, humming an unfamiliar tune as he worked. </p><p>"Could you teach me how to do that?" I finally asked. </p><p>"Do what, sweet human?"</p><p>"You know, work with a dagger like that?" I replied, gesturing to the smooth pieces before him. </p><p>"I've had to hunt for years, but I guess I never really had much finesse. What you're doing is a lot more productive," I explained. </p><p>"I will teach you anything you want to know," He said, suddenly serious. I nodded, confused at his tone but thankful he was willing to share. </p><p>Lucien carefully explained his process while we tackled the stag together. We identified several bad habits I had taken on, and he walked me through rectifying them. Pleased with my progress, he suggested we work on handling the dagger as a weapon. I got used to the weight and feel as we practiced some throwing and hand-to-hand combat. </p><p>I never thought I could feel comfortable in the forests of the Spring Court, knowing that the Suriel and other creatures lurked within. But Lucien's ease bled into me, and I felt more like the old Feyre, adaptable and at ease. Something about slipping back into myself shook the hopeless feeling that had settled over my every moment in the Spring Court.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter was fun to write and a bit longer. I liked seeing another side of Lucien.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Impulse</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Pure lemon, finally.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When we returned from the grounds, I found myself pacing in the study. </p><p>The hunt had wiped a sheen from my eyes. I felt childish for letting fear cow me into hiding within the lush of the manor. Parts of me that had laid dormant with leisure began to awaken, and a plan formed in my mind. Going back to the wall felt like a wise move, something I should have done weeks ago. I couldn't wait to share my plan with Tamlin and get his careful input; after all, this was his world. </p><p>I waited long into the night, steps falling in a pattern against marble as I paced the hall. My excitement co-mingled with fear as the sky darkened, and the scent of roses thickened in the air, drifting up from the briars. </p><p>I heard the front door open, and I was before him as it softly closed. Seeing me, Tamlin broke out in a broad grin, and I threw my arms around him. He returned the gesture in turn, pulling me close in a familiar motion. </p><p>I don't know what was different about tonight, but I certainly felt <em>different</em>. Maybe it was leftover adrenaline from the hunt with Lucien, how I felt striking across the land with Aleron beneath me, the bow in my hands, or the slice of my dagger through flesh. Today had been a spin of sensations, frustration, desire, excitement, power, fear, and determination; it was hard to distinguish between them.</p><p>I squeezed him tighter in response, noticing the firm body beneath me; he smelled like fresh-cut roses, and I didn't want to let go.</p><p>He drew me back, surprised laughter rumbling through his chest. </p><p>"Hello, I missed you too," He murmured, voice dusky.</p><p>Maybe it was that bothersome moment with Lucien on the kitchen table, or perhaps it was something else—but when he looked at me and smiled like that, I leaned in and kissed him. </p><p>My lips sunk into his—in no way gentle, and I clung to him. I wanted him, and I shouldn't have to hold back.
</p><p>
  <em> What if my plan worked, and I never saw him again?</em>
</p><p>He stilled for a moment, but his hands quickly wrapped around my waist, and lips answered mine. His lips were soft and shaped into pleasing arcs, which moved expertly between my own. Pleasure dipped in my stomach—starved for contact. I pushed him against the front door roughly, taking his bottom lip into mine and pulling back with a graze of my teeth. I felt like an ember, flaring to life.</p><p>Tamlin groaned against me, and I knew I wanted everything from him at that moment. </p><p>He separated his body from mine, and I couldn't help the pout that tugged at my lower lip. </p><p>
  <em>Oh, Gods, he didn't want this like I did. </em>
</p><p>Guilt and doubt quickly replaced every morsel of heat within me, and I stiffened.</p><p>"Don't look at me like that, I just wanted to re-position you," He scolded. </p><p>Instead of backing away, Tamlin bent down and curled his arms behind my knees, hoisting me against himself—I wrapped my legs around his midsection and hungrily reunited our lips.</p><p>He spun me, and suddenly it was my back now pressed against the door. His mouth roughly assaulted mine, and a firm pressure pinned my hips to the door.</p><p>"I want you," I breathed between kisses. This didn't have to be dangerous like Lucien; Tamlin was safety and reality; there were no games. Tamlin made me feel like a different, cleaner, and more honest version of myself. We were friends, but right now, I needed more. </p><p>"I want you too, more than you could ever know Feyre, but I think we should take it slow," He said, panting fiercely.</p><p>
  <em>Go slow? </em>
</p><p>I fought back the urge to laugh at his words, his hardness pressed against me in a way that was not <em>slow</em> in the slightest. </p><p>Still, If he didn't want to fuck me against the door, I certainly wouldn't force him.</p><p>"I can respect that," I said, drawing back a bit, and unhooked my legs regretfully from around his waist. </p><p>Tamlin looked like he was choking on something, and finally, spit out a curse.</p><p>"Not that slow,"  he groaned. His eyes were identical to the emeralds that encrusted his mask, and I felt utterly lost in their depths. I cared about him so much, whatever he wanted; <em>I wanted</em>. Maybe it would be enough to satisfy the pit of need within me. </p><p>His words made a bit more sense as he began to kneel, eyes following my face as he slid down my body. Lips pressed over my dress's fabric, between the apex of my thighs, and I responded in a full-body roll towards his mouth.</p><p>I knew what he wanted to do, and while Isaac and I had never done <em>that</em>, I was eager to find out what all the excitement was about.</p><p>"Would you like it if I tasted you, Feyre?"</p><p>"Yes," I practically begged, dropping my head back at the thought. </p><p>Tamlin's hands gripped my ankles and roughly yanked them apart, fluidly, he then swept up the gauze of my dress till it hiked up and caught against my back and the door. A trickle of fear slipped down my back at the harshness of his actions, but desire was a far stronger rival. </p><p>Exposed, Tamlin's face pressed against my core—still covered in thin silk underclothes. He rubbed the bridge of his nose up and down the fabric, and I felt him shudder as I fought to stay upright.</p><p>"Gods, please," I moaned, responsive and hypersensitive to his touch.</p><p>The underclothes were ripped from me with a growl, and I watched the golden-masked male strike out his tongue and give me a long, deep, <em>lick</em>.<br/>
My thighs jerked against his face, legs closing slightly, as I threw my head back and moaned. I didn't care who heard. This was indescribable; I was so slick it almost hurt.</p><p>
  <em>Fuck Lucien</em>
</p><p>Tamlin rumbled his approval into my center as his mouth sealed over me—tongue darting out to lash along groupings of nerves. His hands wrapped around each of my ankles and held my legs firmly apart as he pushed between them.</p><p>His mouth lay beneath me now, and I clenched my thighs against his face as he flicked a rhythm against me. Laboured breaths came from my chest, and I felt the muscles surrounding my ribs draw in with effort. I started to move against his mouth and found delicious friction there, but needed more. I sank my fingers through the lengths of his pale hair, letting my nails scratch along his scalp in a greedy plea for him to increase his pace.</p><p>He obliged and quickened his ministrations in response. Each moan I released was met with a growl that vibrated through me. His hands came up to loop around my hips and settle me against the wall; the new angle pushed his face even deeper against me. I was <em>so close</em> to losing myself.</p><p>My eyes rolled back, but something caught through the fog of my pleasure. Still dressed in all black from our hunt, hands balled into fists at his sides, Lucien stood before us. He was about ten feet away and directly behind Tamlin, preventing the other male from sensing him there.</p><p>Embarrassed, I wiggled to step down from Tamlin's lock on my core and pulled up on his hair. Misinterpreting the movement, Tamlin moved with me, sucking powerfully against my most sensitive part. I struggled against him, bucking my hips helplessly, but he only sucked harder and thrashed his chin from side-to-side like a predator trying to shake the life from his prey.</p><p>I exploded with pleasure despite myself and screamed as I helplessly came, twitching on Tamlin's lips, riding bliss like a wave. </p><p>Lucien didn't take his eyes off me, a dangerous heat glowing from his russet eye, violent whips of fire-red hair danced around him from an invisible wind.</p><p>When the mouth finally released from me, and my legs gently lowered to the ground, I looked up to find Lucien had disappeared. Swells of pleasure caused my legs to clench erratically, and I felt like half of my brain had been scrambled.</p><p>Despite the glow within me, Lucien's face burned into my consciousness.</p><p>
  <em>What have I done?</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Buckle up, its pure debauchery from here on out.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Gilded Cage</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lucien slid his fingers down my sides, embers trailing in his wake. Something told me this was wrong, that I was meant for someone else—for <em>something </em>else. Tamlin had worked so hard to welcome me to his home; he was in charge. </p><p>Lucien was not someone I could be with—<em> so what was he</em>?</p><p>Right now, he was a conductor, harmonizing the planes of my body into an orchestral motion. His touch guided me, tempted me, and lead me to pleasure. Each breath was a swell in the atmosphere and flooded my nerves in sensation.</p><p>
  <em> How had he gotten into my bed chamber? Was he mad about last night? Had he known I was thinking of him?  </em>
</p><p>Questions swept along my consciousness like branches in a breeze. A blazing kiss erased them, and I valiantly fought his tongue's consuming power. I found my fingers spiralled around locks of darkened auburn and pulled at the roots. Lucien gasped at the pressure, and I watched his throat bob in the moonlight, transfixed with the motion. I dove into the flesh there and tasted his neck; apples, cinnamon, and woodfire hinted along my palette.</p><p>Suddenly, the sinful pressure of him against me was gone. I was alone on the mattress, tousled in blankets, wet with anticipation, and punished with abandonment.</p><p>It was a dream, just a fantasy. The music stopped, and my mouth ran dry.</p>
<hr/><p>A creeping sense of dread roamed between my shoulders, lowered into my chest, and hooked my ribs.</p><p>
  <em> What have I done?  </em>
</p><p>I squirmed under the covers. I saw Lucien's face before us, watching the mouth diving between my thighs. Where did this leave us? I had rebuffed him so many times, but my <em>dreams </em>said otherwise. </p><p>I was troubled by my sense of obligation, and I couldn't pin down why I felt destined to be with Tamlin. Surely, I could create my own destiny, be with who I wanted? My mind sorted through the memories, each word, the touches, and how I responded. I couldn't clearly choose one over the other but suspected I had when I let Tamlin satisfy me in the foyer last night. </p><p>
  <em> What had he meant about going slow?  </em>
</p><p>Tamlin's voice startled me, calling from downstairs. I grabbed the set of leather gloves from my bureau and twisted my hair into a low bun. As I left my room, my heart accelerated with anticipation; I couldn't help but think about how our relationship might change—and what that really meant in the long run. I didn't want things to be awkward but didn't think ignoring it would work either. </p><p>Tamlin stood leaning against the door, lips edged to the side in a playful smirk. His hair was partially drawn back, with braids woven into the long pieces at the front. He was draped in a thick slate wolf-pelt cloak, and leather bands crossed his chest. The collar of his murky green shirt was open, and the iridescent lines of his throat and collar bones drew my eyes. A pale gold charm hung below the dip of his neck, tempting me to examine it closer. </p><p>I let out a breath and looked away; it would be a miracle if I could keep things innocent today—when he looked like that. </p><p>Thankfully, Lucien was nowhere in sight. </p><p>"I'm ready," I said, feigning nonchalance. Tamlin had agreed to take me to the wall today. He simply spun and grabbed for the door—leading us to the stables. </p><p>I could tell he was disappointed when I saddled Aleron, claiming him to be an unpredictable danger. Aleron simply pranced when I greeted him, chuffing in an almost-tender manner. When Tamlin moved to help me, the stallion tossed his head menacingly towards the male, and I laughed.</p><p>Despite my concerns from the morning, things with Tamlin quickly drew back into comfort. If he wanted to, he could turn me into a mindless fool. I was relieved for his wish to take things slow.</p><p>The trail was longer than I remembered but approachable in the morning light. Tamlin lead his grey mare through the twists easily, and we chatted about my day yesterday and the hopes I had for today.</p><p>He told me that he had come across a text concerning the Suriel, and how it could be caught using a particular food, among certain trees. It all sounded rather vague to me, but I didn't know much about this land—or <em>Prythian </em>as he called it.</p><p>Walking along the trail called to mind the voice I heard so many weeks ago. <em> Someone had been waiting for me</em>. The inflection wasn't wholly unfamiliar, but I couldn't say for sure it was Tamlin or Lucien. Did another Faerie live in these woods? Had it been the Suriel? Mistrust fluttered in my stomach as I considered Tamlin's figure— <em> could it have been him? </em></p><p><em> Why am I thinking like this? </em> I scolded myself and gripped Aleron's reins tighter. Fear of the unknown was never helpful—I knew that.</p><p>Flecks of ruby pierced through the growth before us, and through the trees—I spotted the stone of the southern gate's guardian. As we drew nearer, I noticed that behind the guardian, that familiar thicket of thorns now sprouted an irregular patch of roses. Looking at the stone lion's position and the peculiar ruby patch, I realized that the blooms marked where I had chased through the thorns. I brushed my arms idly at the memory, and winced as I recalled my appointment with Lucien later today—I couldn't escape him forever.</p><p>"How long has it been like this?" I asked, studying the pattern of flowers amongst the vines.</p><p>"I don't know, this is new since last week," Tamlin shrugged and descended without his usual confidence. </p><p>I followed suit and loosely hitched Aleron to a fallen tree. My footfalls muffled against the mossy terrain as I approached the anomaly. Although I couldn't explain it, staring into the blush-coloured wall felt like staring into a mirror, part of me expected it to move when I did.</p><p> I reached an inquisitive hand and felt a tingling against my fingers as the place's magic greeted me. Sensation moved to my forearms and painlessly danced along the invisible marks in my skin. The air appeared to shimmer, and the roses' scent became reminiscent of my family home's fire—smoky, warm, and punctuated with roasted vegetables. My eyes watered at the memory of my sisters and everything I was before.</p><p>Lucien was right; the wall was speaking to me. I had expected animosity or threat, given the curse it had placed. But in my gut, I knew this feeling was different. I wasn't afraid or intimidated—but I was confused.</p><p>There was a nebulous shudder in the air when I ventured forward, and I found that I couldn't move past. Sadly, whatever crack I had slipped through no longer existed.</p><p>I sighed wearily and turned to Tamlin. I thought the wall would give me solutions, but I only had more questions.</p><p>"Why roses?" I asked, thumbing a blood-red petal.</p><p>Tamlin was silent. He gazed towards the massive lion with a thin press through the line of his lips.</p><p>Roses always reminded me of <em>him </em>—and I wasn't sure what I felt about them being here.</p><p>He stepped towards me and rested a hand around my waist.</p><p>"For the last fifty years, this wall has perplexed me. Each time I think I understand it, I'm shown otherwise," His free hand traced along the transparent fault-line there, and I could almost see the air wrinkle in acknowledgment.</p><p>He leaned back against the guardian and carded his fingers through his hair thoughtfully</p><p>"Feyre, can we talk about last night?" He asked, and I spun to face him. It wasn't like I hadn't expected this, but it still managed to take me by surprise.</p><p>He padded the granite next to him, and I sagged against it expectantly.</p><p>
  <em> Was this the conversation where he told me that he didn't want this? That he regretted it?  </em>
</p><p>My thighs clenched subtly in a mixture of shame and pleasure as I thought of his mouth moving between them. My thoughts of the wall disappeared.</p><p>"Is it what you wanted?" He asked, eyes sparkling and body angled towards mine.</p><p>"No," I said honestly.</p><p>"I see," He said, turning from me, expression veiled.</p><p>How could I say that I wanted more? That I wanted to blaze past our friendship and have him in a way that mocked the difference between humans and Fae. That I wanted him and Lucien in the same way, despite every dubious rule I made for myself.</p><p>"Look," I started, smoothing my hands over the fabric of my pants. "It's okay that you wanted to take things slower; I'm not here to make you be—or do things you're not ready for," I said, words tumbling from my mouth as I thought them.</p><p>"I know you've been trapped here for a long time, and I can't imagine what that feels like. This is new for me too,"</p><p>Tamlin sunk down to his knees in front of me, and I noticed the golden beads intertwined in his hair as they caught in the daylight.</p><p>"You're talking about how I asked to…<em>go slow </em>?" disbelief coloured his words.</p><p>"Well, yeah," I flushed, realizing we might not be on the same page.</p><p>"Oh, Feyre," He swept away a hair from the side of my face in a heartbreakingly tender gesture. His responding kiss was soft and gentle in a way that was absent yesterday.</p><p>I drew back, "I don't regret what happened, I just want <em> all </em> of you,"</p><p>He dipped under my body and transferred me onto his seat, resting us against the side of the guardian. My limbs sunk to either side, and I covered his perfect mouth with all the words I hadn't said.</p><p>Tamlin's hands unsecured the bun at the nape of my neck, and I shivered when he combed his fingers through my hair. My scent of minted rose drifted around us, and I fought the urge to rock in his lap. I ran my fingers down the butter-soft wolf's pelt and fingered the leather of his bandolier.</p><p>Our movements were unhurried and considerate, exploring each curve and dip. </p><p>Pressure on my hair caused my head to tilt up, and Tamlin's face continued to travel the skin of my neck. I fisted the fur of the wolf as he discovered spots that seemed to erase my brain. His hands drifted to the small of my back and kneaded the muscles that lay beneath. I gritted my teeth in concentration, forbidding my hips to roll against him—respecting the pace he chose.</p><p>I moved back, needing space from the sweet torture he inflicted. But Tamlin's teeth sunk lightly into my neck, and he anchored his hands on my hips—barring any other movement.</p><p>"Tamlin," I murmured, twitching for contact under his grip.</p><p>"Would you really have me<em> fuck you </em>out here? In the woods?" He growled, hips rolling up to emphasize his point.</p><p>I gasped and pressed to meet his thrust, revelling in the forbidden friction I had been desperate for.</p><p>"Yes, please," I breathed, so very hopeful he would do just that.  </p><p>But then I was behind him, and a tremendous animalistic growl ripped from his chest.</p><p>Slithering before us was a massive half-humanoid, half-serpentine creature covered in dark scales and wicked talons. A forked, silver tongue tumbled out of its mouth as four more monsters moved to flank him.</p><p>In front of me, Tamlin's form seemed to blur and expand.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Anyone have any guesses about the mystery voice or what's going on with the wall? Also, next time we fight some Naga.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Serpent</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I fingered the hilt of the dagger as the creatures advanced. Their horrible, razor-sharp canines dripped with saliva and oil slick hair framed their demonic faces. The horses reared and bolted for the path back home, not even drawing a glance from the monsters surrounding us.</p><p>Tamlin growled again in warning, but his form blurred violently, shaggy black fur replaced his cloak and twisted elk-like antlers sprouted from his temple. Before me, a creature the size of a horse but resembling a bear prowled forward, snarling at the serpents.</p><p>Tamlin had changed into a beast before my very eyes, a stark reminder of how different we were. I added that to my list of things to unpack later—if there even was a <em>later</em>. I was so stupid to have come here;<em> why didn't I just listen to Tamlin's warnings?</em></p><p>I rose my dagger in a defensive stance, remembering the skills I had practiced yesterday with Lucien. The first serpent made to speak, but a hiss was all that came from the rows of menacing teeth. I gripped the blade harder in my hand and bent into my knees. Tamlin was now a fearsome sort of thing, but could he take all five of them? <em>Would I even survive a minute on my own? </em></p><p>Quickly, Tamlin struck, and motion whirred ahead of me. Four creatures surrounded him, and I saw black blood spray out of one as Tamlin's form ripped into its side. It was challenging to track their movements, each struck at a speed too quick for human comprehension. My eyes seemed to bulge from my skull in an attempt to take in the battle before me. </p><p>I felt cool all over as I backed into the stone guardian, breaths uneven and shallow. I caught sight of Tamlin's clothing in a pile before me, and catching the glimmer of his weapons, I struck my foot out to drag it towards me. A strip of throwing knives and a great sword lay in the abandoned pile, and I quickly loosened the smaller blades and tucked them into my belt.</p><p>I rose to meet the deathly face of the missing serpent and didn't hesitate to send a knife straight to its left eye socket. Unlike yesterday, my aim was perfect, and it sunk deep into the bone. I would have aimed for its heart, but something told me this <em>thing</em>—might not have one to speak of. It let out a strangled sound and charged towards me, and I dodged left before it tumbled into the granite guardian.</p><p>Crumbles of stone fell from the lion, and I only gave a moment to analyze the amount of force the beast was capable of. I sent another knife flying to its right eye, and it found purchase in the wild amber iris of the monster. Blinded and seeping tar-coloured blood, the beast slithered frantically towards me. Its hands pawed at the air in dangerous arcs, polished talons swiping with might. Its jaws snapped hungrily, and I almost caught in its grip as I moved left, towards Tamlin.</p><p>Terrific ripping, crashes, and whimpers of pain sounded from the other group, but I didn't let it distract me for an instant. I skipped over the fallen tail of a serpent as I circled around my blinded foe.  Still pin-wheeling in the opposite direction, I danced around the creature and picked up the great-sword—being careful to make no noise.</p><p>The beast struck rapidly, and I saw my opportunity as I snuck behind it. Adrenaline lifted the weight of the sword and brought its deadly edge across the creature's neck. I fainted back as a fountain of black blood erupted from a deep gash in its throat. </p><p>A cacophony of strangled sounds came from it as the blood spewed forth. Frightened, I watched as its movement became more frantic, clawing dangerously towards me. But it eventually slowed and crumpling to the ground, its long, thick tail thudding against the stained earth.</p><p>I felt equal parts fascination and disbelief. I wondered how I could have defeated something that <em>big</em>. For a moment, I was distracted by my success. </p><p>Too late, I noticed the charge of another, peeling away from the group Tamlin was fighting. I backed up quickly, my shaky arms defensively rearing the blackened great sword.</p><p>A shot of fur swept from my right and tumbled into the serpent before it could reach me. I watched as Tamlin—<em>or what used to be Tamlin</em>, clawed atop it and ripped out its trachea with long yellow canines. The serpent went abruptly still, its tail unfurled, and silence encompassed the clearing. </p><p>I quickly counted the bodies about us, all five serpents were present, and we seemed to make it through relatively unscathed.</p><p>
  <em>Thank the Gods</em>
</p><p>Tamlin's form wavered, and a naked Faerie stood in the place of the antlered bear. Neither of us flinched at his nakedness.</p><p>"What was that?" I asked, staring at the massive dead bodies.</p><p>"They're called Naga," He said simply and walked towards his pile of clothes.</p><p>Absently, I took in the pleasing meridians of muscle that corded his body, the impressive piece between his legs.<br/>
<em>He was right; parts of him were very human-like after all. </em></p><p>I felt quiet and small. My thoughts came honestly and abruptly like they belonged to someone else. </p><p>"Why did they attack us?"</p><p>"Humans are a delicacy to them, I didn't know such a large group had gotten into this wood," He replied, scolding himself.</p><p>"And you were…" I trailed off, thinking of the bizarre creature he had transformed into—like it was nothing at all.</p><p>"Yes, I shifted, I can understand how…frightening that might be," He began with a pained look.</p><p>"But, as I said before, I'll never hurt you. I just find it easier to take on groups in my other…form,"</p><p>His words felt heavy in my mind. At the same time, I didn't think I would remember anything he was telling me. I was in his lap, then he was some sort of beast, I killed a <em>Naga</em>, and now we were here. I was a delicacy to them. None of it seemed real. </p><p>"See something you like," Tamlin teased, and I noticed that my gaze had been unfixed—but directed at his naked form. I spun around and wiped the sword on the grass, embarrassed.</p><p>Again, I was shocked by Tamlin's relentless honesty. He could transform into a menacing creature at will, a thing that nightmares and fairy tales were made of. I knew he was powerful, had seen the muscles, suspected the history—but seeing it in action was completely different. I wondered why he had never told me about this other form, or if he was ashamed of it. He certainly didn't try to hide it now, and it warmed my heart to know he would use it to protect me. He was right; I <em>was</em> frightened—but at the same time, I trusted him more. </p><p>Emboldened, I checked to see if he was clothed—and seeing he was, I strode up to him—sword still in hand.</p><p>"Thank you," I breathed, staring directly into his eyes, refusing to show any fear. I cared about him, and I wouldn't let irrational fear get in the way of it.</p><p>I drew him down by his clothes for a brazen kiss, sword still dangling from my right hand.</p><p>"Let's go home and get cleaned up before we meet any of their friends."</p><p>I released him and agreed, he wouldn't have to ask twice.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading, please consider leaving a comment!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Petals</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Two chapters in one night!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When we got back to the manor, I stunk of sweat and the acrid blood of the Naga. Their blood refused to dry and still clung wetly to my leggings. </p><p>When we reached the top of the stairs, Tamlin's voice stopped me from heading into my chambers. </p><p>"Come wash with me," </p><p>My heart fluttered in my chest, but I didn't hesitate to follow him down an unfamiliar hallway. </p><p>I had never been to his apartments before, and the grandeur took me back. Golden gilding gleamed from every corner. Greens and pinks decorated the surfaces in a surprisingly feminine flare. Matching sets of furniture were artfully arranged in the space, all sporting creeping vines of metal roses.</p><p>He led me to the bathing chamber, which was flooded in light from a domed window in the ceiling. The room was large and circular in shape, every surface an exquisitely veined marble that echoed about us. Along the walls were quartz vanities covered in ornate, colourful containers. The center-piece was the pool that sunk into the floor and steamed with cerulean blue waters. Grand columns encircled it, giving it a ceremonial feel. </p><p>Tamlin stripped from his soiled clothes, and I turned to do the same. I deposited the filthy garments on a bench and hung my weapons on little hooks I found in a ribbed column. I quickly slipped into the bath before Tamlin could turn around and let the bubbling water caress my skin. Catching the naked expense of his buttocks, I dropped my head down into the liquid and let the bath cleanse me. </p><p>I surfaced to find Tamlin before me, splashing water on his gore-soaked face and forearms. I was surprised to see the oily Naga blood become clear and shimmery in the blue bath waters. I didn't think I could ever get used to magic being real. </p><p>"Now, where was I, before we were so rudely interrupted?" he asked, running his hands through his unravelling braids. </p><p>I flushed as I remembered his comment about fucking me in the woods. </p><p>"I'm not sure...I might need a reminder," I lied.  </p><p>Tamlin smirked and reached for a glass stoppered bottle. A pink, honey-thick liquid poured into his hands, which he worked into a lather. He brought his warm, soapy hands to my bare shoulders and smoothed down the sides—disappearing past the waterline.<br/>
The scent of flowers permeated the air, and where the bubbles disappeared into the water—rose petals floated to the surface. </p><p>It would have been more romantic if I hadn't remembered the roses of the wall—marking my entry into Prythian and subsequent curse. But then Tamlin stepped closer and ran massaging fingers down my back, and I lost all other thoughts. </p><p>I focused on the proximity of his body to mine, his chest level with my face, and I leaned forward as his arms wrapped around me. The rose petals floated in a halo around our bodies, and I breathed in the musky scents of spring. </p><p>Pushing onto the tips of my toes, I reached my lips to his—eager to join us together. Parted lips met mine and pressed into me, causing me to sigh with pleasure. I stretched out and coasted my fingers across the rigid, slick panels of his chest—spreading the soap from my arms to him. </p><p>His hands continued to move in large arcs over my back and dipped lower to encircle my buttocks—lifting me slightly and into his body. </p><p>My bare breasts pressed against his heart as he kneaded the flesh of my rear. I moaned delicately into his mouth—unsure if I could maintain the slow pace he had requested. We were both naked, warm, with our bodies slipping against each other. I could feel his growing hardness against me. </p><p>"I can't take this," I whispered against his mouth. </p><p>"I want you to try," he cooed—lips feathering against my temples.</p><p>
  <em>Whatever he wanted, I wanted.</em>
</p><p>One hand secured me against him, and the other ghosted up along my ribs, causing goose flesh to trail in their wake. I squirmed against him and felt my breathing accelerate with need. Tamlin ground against me torturously, imprinting his member into my stomach. </p><p>Waves of pleasure shot through me—centring to the spot between my legs. I whimpered unintelligible little pleas against his mouth, desperate for the sensation of him plunging into me. </p><p>Both our breaths came in pants as his hips dipped and brought his organ across my entrance—I bit into his shoulder in frustration.<br/>
His smooth flesh dragged against me in long strokes, each one stalling my breath and causing mad flares of desire. </p><p>"Please," I moaned and wrapped my legs around him. </p><p>In response, he paused and pushed against me, before thickly slipping past and up to my stomach. Need and insanity gripped me mercilessly. </p><p>Finally, he pressed against me in earnest—sliding up and seating his entire length in a steady thrust. My bones seemed to melt against him, and I gripped the golden charm around his neck. Tamlin held me as his body rocked effortlessly against me.  </p><p>Deep rolls of pleasure liquified my legs but kept my hips mindlessly moving. I joined his lips in a frenzy and fisted his hair as he plunged. I didn't think I could ever get enough of this, <em>of him. </em></p><p>Around us, delicate pink petals floated down from the ceiling and fell silently in the bubbling waters. Soon, the crystalline blue was replaced with a luxurious red—corrupted with passion. </p><p>I staggered against him—searching out release. Tamlin caught this and stopping inside me, moved us to the edge of the bath. We rested against a step, and he knelt between my legs. Water sluiced off his pectorals, and petals clung to his skin. He looked like a god. </p><p>"What's the rush?" He purred, slowly moving again, allowing me to feel each inch as it separated my flesh. </p><p>I could only kiss him in response—past the point of language and speech. He might have been immortal, but I was not—and life was too damn short. </p><p>I pawed at his buttocks and buckled against him, hoping to entice him to come with me; join me in debauchery, excess, and sinfulness.<br/>
Finally relenting, he quickened, but kept the pressure deep, grinding against me and bringing breathy groans to my lips. The water frothed around us, and I lost myself when I heard small sounds coming from Tamlin. </p><p>He rode through my orgasm, smothering my mouth and stealing the moans from my lips. I was trapped in ecstasy when his pleasure came but writhed against him mindlessly as his seed filled me. </p><p>He folded us onto the stairs of the bath and brought my back to his chest. Our breaths synchronized slowly, and I played with the golden hair of his forearms. I never wanted to move from this place. </p><p>Around us, petals fell and coated the top of the water.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>What did we think of the Tamlin/Feyre scene?  It will contrast quite a bit with my plans for Lucien...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Offering</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Feyre discovers a secret!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lucien led me through an unfamiliar corridor that afternoon. He had said nothing when he found me at the table and maintained his silence as we walked. </p><p>After my 'bath' with Tamlin, we had washed in earnest; and I eventually dressed in a gown of sage green, affixed with lace appliques of dandelions and starlings. For once, I revelled in the garment's billowing behaviour and twirled affectionately as the decorations danced at my feet. I had felt light, like a puff from the very flowers adorning my gown. </p><p>The passage we travelled seemed to be dusty. Cobwebs swayed in corners, and long expanses of wall lay between each candle. Premonition scuttled along my spine, but I ignored it. </p><p>Finally, creaky double doors opened into a cavern of a room with large peaked windows. Light streamed in and cast highlights onto the tiled floor, and specks of dust were illuminated in the dense beams. The ceiling was vaulted, gold and green ribbing punctuated with shadowy murals. The room's center held an empty dais, and I realized this must have been a chapel. Apparently, it had been unused for many years. I couldn't imagine why Lucien had brought me here for our 'appointment.'<br/>
Did this place somehow bolster his power? <em>Was religion like that, after all?</em> </p><p>Lucien briskly lit the candelabras and pushed himself up and onto the altar. Today he wore a mossy green tunic, so dark it was almost black. His hair was unbound but kept in neat copper streams down his spine. Tall leather boots covered his knees, and a jewelled dagger hung at his side. </p><p>A platter of tea-sandwiches appeared in his hands, which he gestured towards me. </p><p>"After today, you must be starving," he said with thick sarcasm. </p><p>An unchecked sneer made its way to my lips. He was not allowed to be a bully. </p><p>"Actually, I am," I stepped forward and plucked a petite sandwich from the tray, rebelliously shoving it into my mouth. </p><p>Lucien's hand twitched, but he didn't reply. </p><p>An uncomfortable silence settled into the forgotten depths of the church. I devoured several sandwiches, wishing he would just say whatever it was he was thinking. We still had several minutes before the curse activated. </p><p>"Why are we here?" I asked because I knew he was dying to tell me. </p><p>"Sit,"</p><p>He slid from the altar and motioned for me to take his place. He didn't seem actively angry or threatening, so I lifted onto the cool marble.</p><p>From my seat, I could see the murals more closely. Crimson muscled monsters wrestled with naked men, their bodies entangled in divine violence. At the compass points, skeletons adorned with robes and crowns rode upon various beasts—bears, stags, and the like. On the wall we had entered from, glass vases containing a reddened substance formed a line on multiple shelves. </p><p><em> What could those be for?</em> </p><p> It was unlike any other chapel I had ever seen. Although, I couldn't quite put my finger on what was missing. </p><p>I became distracted as familiar fingers traced along my elbows to my wrists as Lucien inspected my skin. </p><p>"Now tell me, sweet human, do you want me to heal all his tokens of affection? Or just the ones on your arms?" At that, he gently swept a spot on my neck, which I knew Tamlin had bitten. </p><p>I flushed violently, remembering Lucien's lips worrying the spot yesterday before the hunt.</p><p> "Somebody's jealous," I said, hoping to come off unaffected. </p><p>"I won't deny that I am," </p><p>I was shocked but tried not to let it show. The heat in his gaze was too similar to last night, and I looked away. </p><p>"Why am I up here?" I gestured to the altar, changing the subject. </p><p>"Oh, but isn't it obvious? <em> Because you're the offering." </em> </p><p>"Very funny," I replied hotly, but a glacial lick of panic travelled across my chest. </p><p>"Back to the matter at hand, I am jealous, but not so much that I wouldn't share," he said, dropping his voice low. </p><p>I wanted to rebuke him, to call him perverse—but the insult failed me. <em> Hadn't I been aching for those very words?</em>  My body was too accustomed to pleasure, and at his intensity, heat flooded me. </p><p>"I have a feeling those are sentiments that Tamlin does not share," I replied, tipping my face to the ceiling and away from his gaze. I felt like I was giving some sort of invitation. </p><p>Faint pain trickled across my skin as the curse took hold, and I felt the drops falling to the marble below me. </p><p>Lucien's warm hands sealed over each side, and the scent of magic coursed through the room. </p><p>My words burned in the air between us; I realized that they didn't need a response. Tamlin would not share or understand the split in my desire; he was fiercely protective, and this sort of thing was against his nature. I knew it, as did Lucien. I also didn't decline the red-head outright or call him any of the nasty things I should have. </p><p><em> What Tamlin doesn't know won't hurt him, right? </em> </p><p>I felt wrong for just thinking the words. But at the same time, I struggled with the pervasive feeling that Tamlin owned me somehow. </p><p>"Think about it," he murmured and lowered me from the pedestal—<em> as if I needed a reminder. </em> </p><p>"What's the reading for today?" I ventured. </p><p>"Ah, yes, I'll have to go get it. Don't get into too much trouble while I'm gone." He mused and left the chamber. </p><p>I studied the details of the room and wandered between the columns near the front of it. I turned expectantly when I heard the door open, half-hidden by the shadows of the chapel. But to my confusion, a golden head of hair slid silently through the doors. He didn't notice me, and before I could call out to him, I watched Tamlin pull a jar from his tunic. He gently turned a rusty-coloured liquid about then place it onto a nearby shelf. I had never seen Tamlin be so swift or so quiet, and something about it kept my mouth sealed. He slipped out the nearby door quickly, and it made no sound as it shut. </p><p><em> What is he doing? What's in those jars? </em> </p><p>Ice slide through my veins. Entranced, I started towards the wall. But Lucien re-emerged through a pocket door before I could reach the shelves, toting a sneer and a thick book. </p><p>Throughout my lesson, Lucien kept up a steady stream of insults, but I didn't care. I kept wondering about the bottles and studying them from the corner of my eye when Lucien wasn't looking. </p><p>After what could have been hours, he swept the books into his arms and dismissed me for the day. I turned to collect my papers, but Lucien was already gone when I set towards the exit. Finding myself alone in the chapel, I walked anxiously towards the shelves with their assortment of filled glass jars. Tamlin had been too strange about it, I knew as I picked up the first one that I wouldn't like what I saw.</p><p>I was right. </p><p>It had taken me a moment to place the pink fabric stained in deep red splotches. It was magnificent, and the colour of a dusty rose. This was from the sleeve of the dress I had worn on my first day in the court. This was the dress I wore in the garden with Tamlin. How could I ever forget my eyes casting down in horror to see the bright red bloom through the garment's delicate fabric? My fingers felt cold like all the blood had fled them in memory of what I held. My eyes fell upon the rows and rows of bloodied bandages and the small jars of what must have been liquid blood. </p><p>I knew that this was all from me. My throat felt tight like a cord contracted around my windpipe and only allowed a quick, shallow breath through. With a jerky movement, I shoved the jar back to its place and wiped my dry hands frantically against the embroidered dandelion of my gown. </p><p>I needed to leave, I needed my bow, or my room, or something. I needed to be anywhere but this place. I needed to breathe, to move.<br/>
I fled the cursed chapel and didn't look back.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Our golden boy is not acting very golden!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Pink Glass</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>An overwhelming tide of questions swept me. Foreboding, panic, and unease dug into my fluttering heart. 
<em>My blood had been in those jars</em>. </p><p>I wrung the cloth in my hands, feeling my fingers creak with tension. The little scraps of my clothing fitted to the surface of my mind, held suspended in fresh, bright liquid, preserved in gore. </p><p>There had to be a reason. My traitorous thoughts supplied that he had hoarded it for nefarious, magic purposes. It was clear to me this blood must have been collected from my daily curse and that I couldn't say I remembered what Lucien had done with the dressings and ruined garments. Now I had my answer. </p><p>Why had Lucien taken me there? Obviously, he must have been in on the game, recognize the contents of the vessels? But that didn't make sense; why would he give himself away? Why risk taking me there?<br/>
I was confused and hurt. </p><p>Tamlin, who was so honest, who held me and kissed me and had me completely, was keeping something from me. It was hard to imagine him keeping anything from me, any dishonestly. Part of me was convinced that I was mistaken, creating a great betrayal from nothing. I would just go to him and <em>ask</em>. He would soothe any fear and offer the most reasonable explanations. </p><p>But why collect the blood and omit it from conversation if there was nothing to hide? Why tuck it away in the forgotten chapel? Again, what was Lucien's gain in leading me there, having me see what Tamlin was up to? My head ached; fear once more lay at the end of my thoughts. </p><p>I could ignore it. I could banish the memory and pray he wouldn't see the omission when we were together or the bite in my cheek when we kissed. I still wanted all those things from him, even if he had lied. Surely, he wasn't lying when we were intimate together. </p><p>No, I couldn't hide, lie, or forget, and I itched within my own skin. I would have to ask and deal with the consequences. I didn't know how to go about it but wondered if I could come to it naturally in conversation. Above all, I didn't want to accuse him of anything. What if he was angry at me? What if I ruined the new relationship between us with my own insecurities and over-reactions?</p><p>Other, dirty and unsavoury thoughts tried to worm their way into my plans, but I beat them back. I wouldn't let myself believe I had been tricked into intimacy with him until the truth was had. </p><p>Instead of confronting the issue--as I should have, I ignored Tamlin the next day, lounging in my rooms. Even Lucien was forced to come to me with meals and at four. </p><p>When our usual lesson ended, I insisted on cleaning up my own bloodied bandages. Lucien smiled wickedly at my insistence, and I guessed that he was onto my plans, understood my sudden protectiveness over the blood. He didn't mention any of it as he left the room, but his fingers did trail along my furniture in an inquisitive manner as he made for the door. </p><p>"You know, this room smells delectable," he mused, but I ignored him. He was baiting me, as per usual. </p><p>I was relieved when he left, and even more so when a platter appeared in my room at six. When I finally ate, the food had already grown cold.<br/>
I went to bed early, drawing my curtains closed and blocking out all light. </p><p>I woke to a rustling in my bedding. Before I could scream in fear, hands stroked along my thighs and squeezed them playfully. </p><p>"Oh, hello," I replied, catching the concealed form of a large man between my legs. </p><p>Sleepily I remembered my dream from a few nights before, diving into the exotically spiced neck of the red-headed Faerie, pulling at his silken hair.<br/>
The same silk grazed the skin of my thighs, and I sighed into the dream of Lucien in my bed-chamber. </p><p>Greedy lips met my swollen core, and my hips flexed towards them. The sensation grew and shook all trace of drowsiness from me, and with a start, I realized I did not know who was in my bed. </p><p>Why had I assumed it was Lucien?<br/>
I was appalled. </p><p>Logically, this must have been Tamlin. He was curious as to why I hid all day. He probably thought I was melancholy and needed some attention; he was clever in that way. </p><p>But who did I want it to be? Imagining it was Lucien, I felt my hips rise again and grind into the hungry mouth below me. At this moment, it could have been either of them, both of them. </p><p>The lips raced me closer to climax, and I relaxed into the feeling. I didn't want to pick, and right now, I could have it the way I had dreamed; my own delicious mental deception. I came shuttering and crying, thrashing my hands into the sheets and spitting out curse after curse.<br/>
It had been so good. </p><p>A slow sense of unease bit through my haze of pleasure. No matter which one it had been, this had not been a wise choice. I was angry and confused with Tamlin and steadily taming my lust over Lucien. Just as I didn't want to choose a lover, I didn't want to select a complication to face now.</p><p>Golden locks glinted in the faint moonlight, and I was surprised by the bit of disappointment I felt. Maybe I had secretly favoured one over the other. </p><p>"Now, will you tell me why you've cloistered yourself in your chambers," Tamlin purred, lips glossy. </p><p>"I need to ask you something," I blurted impulsively. </p><p>"Anything," </p><p>"I saw something…" I started, and he curled his body against me, languid and at ease. </p><p>"There's a church here and jars that seem to have my...blood in them," I left out the part where I had seen him; perhaps he would try to deny it. </p><p>"Feyre, I can see what you would think," he began, voice serious. </p><p>"It's not a comprehensive solution, but the safest…I couldn't have it disposed of where monsters like the Suriel could scent you," </p><p>The words were what I had expected, a solution to mollify the tension within me. I held my tongue, waiting for more.<br/>
"I didn't mean to <em>hide</em> it from you, but I started collecting it and storing it away just in case the Suriel grew brave and attacked the house. I didn't know how to tell you; it's kind of weird to humans." </p><p>"I hope that makes sense, Feyre," he pleaded with me, awaiting my answer.<br/>
"But you always tell me everything; you're always honest with how you feel," I replied, resistant to accept the explanation before me.<br/>
"You're right, and I'm sorry I made this mistake. I just never wanted to have you fearful, unnecessarily," He continued, stroking my cheek with his large fingers. </p><p>It was touching that he had tried to save me from anxiety, and it reminded me of something I would have done to my sisters. But still, I hated watered-down truths. </p><p>"Please, forgive me," He pleaded, placing kissed along my jaw. </p><p>"Yes, of course,"
 I nestled into his welcome warmth. Maybe it was time I started to trust someone other than myself.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. The Tree of Good and Evil</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here's a good Lucy chapter for ya.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The dawn mist was cool against my skin as Tamlin rode off into the northern woods. His blurred shape met another that I vaguely identified as Lucien and his mount Tariq. They seemed to quarrel briefly, an angered crescendo rippling across the field. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but soon Lucien's form grew larger, and Tamlin disappeared through the fog. </p><p>Tamlin was excited when he told me of his plan to finally catch the Suriel. The details were not abundantly clear, but he assured me that it was something he could handle. Regretfully, it would mean he would have to travel and camp in the wood for at least a night—maybe two. Lucien would stay at the manor and attend to me while he was gone.</p><p> <em>Had they argued over that? Was Lucien upset about babysitting me?</em></p><p>A long-forgotten stillness settled into me. I felt cold and alone like I walked through the winter wood again. I was used to being unwanted back home. Idly, I wrapped the knitted shawl closer to my shoulders. I had never seen the Spring Court look so dark-like its sun had ridden away. </p><p>I didn't notice as Lucien came up behind me. The length of his body brushed against my side, and one, remarkably tender arm wrapped around me. There was no hint of his argument with Tamlin, and I didn't stiffen. Right now, I wanted to be held—be brought back from the deafening silence of the woods, the cavernous hunger. I was starting to remember more and more that I did not belong here. </p><p>"Would you like to go on a ride with me?" Lucien offered, his breath thickening into a cloud above my right ear. </p><p>I turned towards him and met his probing gaze. His hair was gathered into a tousled knot; he was outfitted in all black riding gear, with a heavy charcoal cloak secured to his shoulders by thick leather straps. He appeared impossibly broad and smelled like woodsmoke. The copper fox mask still glowed with its own internal fire, and his scars seemed faded in the dawn light. A clear russet eye and a whirring golden one studied me intently, but without the burning desire I was accustomed to. </p><p>Cocooned in fog, I wished again to touch the scar that ran down the flesh of his cheek. This time, I didn't stop my hand as it reached up to brush against it. Lucien's feminine eyelashes fluttered shut as I traced the angry lines, studying the echo of violence. He said nothing and was as still as a statue. </p><p>"Yes, I'd like a ride,"  the words slowly leaving my lips. </p><p>Before, I might have wanted to be alone, but something about Lucien still felt like loneliness. My hand twisted again into the fabric of my shawl. </p><p>With ethereal speed, Lucien unbuckled his cloak and draped the weight of it onto my shoulders. I opened my mouth to protest but quickly realized I was inadequately dressed, and going back to the house was too far. His cloak still held warmth, and it felt luxurious against me. </p><p>"I'll keep you safe, sweet human," He muttered, soothing a fear I never had. <em>Who was this male before me? What had he done with Lucien?</em></p><p>"Always?" </p><p>"Not always," He returned, mouth turning down to a frown. </p><p>I shrugged. Always was a long time, and safety was not something that could be promised forever. Sometimes, I understood the stark world Lucien resided in. Sometimes, I even appreciated it. At least he didn't try to hide it from me. </p><p>Those were our last words of the morning. We rode together on Tariq, myself in front and Lucien's body, a cage behind me. We wandered through forgotten sections of the garden with their stretches of stone-lined streams that fed the flowers. Our pace increased through the orchards and rings of fig trees towards the east of the house. </p><p>I wasn't filled with a heady exhilaration as we sped through the awakening grounds, but I was emptied of the stillness and worry I had felt earlier, and that was enough. I had spent so many days in leisure with Tamlin, but I never did this with Lucien. Mild curiosity followed me with him into the kitchen. </p><p>"Hungry?" He gestured with a deep saucepan. </p><p>"Always," My voice felt odd with disuse. </p><p>Lucien's wicked smile returned as he began to chop various root vegetables and peppers. </p><p>"Wait, I've never seen you cook before," I queried; food always just <em>appeared. </em></p><p>"I cook sometimes," He replied evasively. </p><p>"When? You always use that enchanted parchment thing,"</p><p>"Ah yes, that has its limits. It can't cook food from where I'm from," He said, moving on to the stovetop. </p><p>"And where is that?" I continued, catching a hint of some information about his past. I had long suspected Lucien was not from the Spring court, but he never provided any details. Gleaning information from the male was like pulling teeth. Whatever tenderness had come over him this morning was gone now, and he ignored my question. </p><p>"I'll figure you out one day, Lucien," I taunted.</p><p>"I would be impressed if you could," He said, turning to me with an exasperated, annoyed expression. I didn't feel like we were talking about him anymore. </p><p>I played with the loose stitching on his cloak; suddenly, it felt taxing and heavy on my shoulders. </p><p>The kitchen was grandiose, like every other room in the manor. Red brick made up the walls and wide arches in the ceiling, grouted in a brilliant white. Stout concrete pillars supported the curving bricks and lined the section of heavy cast-iron cookery. Brass pots ordered above the stoves on a little shelf, and from a large rack hung a mixture of herbs and metal pans. A long uneven wooden table stretched out between us with a collection of terra-cotta pottery—the room smelt like oregano, bread, and fire. I decided I was very fond of the kitchen; it reminded me the most of my home. </p><p>I paced along the cobbled flooring, fingering the unique textures of the room. This part of the manor felt different, older maybe. The smell of unfamiliar spices wafted through the air, and I watched Lucien as he lost himself in the cooking. The smell brought me back to the morning I awoke in Lucien's bed and the tray of spiced eggs that he sat before me.<em>Had he cooked that too?</em></p><p>All too soon, a sauced dish of chicken and various grains, peppers, and roots slid before me. I tried to place the ingredients or guess their providence but came up empty. <em>Where was he from? </em></p><p>Lucien looked at me expectantly, so I dove a fork into the grains and ate a generous bite. He settled to his own dish with an approving grin. Flavour exploded in my mouth, along with a heat I had never known. It felt like a small fire was in my mouth, and it wasn't going away. It was bearable but alarming, and Lucien actually laughed at the terrified look I must have given him. </p><p>"Why is it doing that?" I asked, feeling the temperature of the dish with a finger. </p><p>"One of the ingredients produces oil that mimics the sensation of burning; It won't harm you," He replied, clearly amused.<br/>
"Does this mean you like it?" He asked, golden eye buzzing excitedly towards the plate and my reddened face. </p><p>"It tastes different," was all I replied. Truth be told, it was nice, but I didn't want him to know I liked it for some reason. Typical little village girl that I was, fawning over any new, exotic experience. </p><p>"Thank you for making it," I added in earnest; I did like watching him work and didn't want to be rude.</p><p>I quickly finished the plate. Midway I had undone the leather strapping from the cloak and laid it beside me on a stool. Lucien's brows rose suggestively at the move, but he did not comment—for which I was thankful. </p><p>I moved to place my dish in the large porcelain sink, but he caught me around the waist and brought me seated across his knees. At first, I felt like a child again, on the lap of an adult—but that sensation promptly left when I twisted to face him. </p><p>"You know, sweet human," He began, fingers threatening to slide to my hips. </p><p>"As per Faerie law, now that you've eaten my food,<em> you are mine forever,</em>" </p><p>I was mesmerized by the movement of his lips as he softly threatened me. I couldn't keep my thoughts of last night away—how I had wished it had been Lucien under the blankets, his lips lapping between my thighs. He was cheeky now, a mischievous grin tilted the corners of his mouth—baiting me to argue.</p><p>"Are you sure you want to deal with <em>me forever</em>? That's a long time, and we both know much you loath humans, despite whatever<em> this is</em>," I replied, eyes squinting into his own then dipping down suggestively to his lap. </p><p>"Forever would not be long enough to go through the ways I'd like to <em>deal</em> with you," He replied, hand dipping to my calf and resting hotly against it. </p><p>"Have you given some more thought to my offer?" He murmured and leaned into my neck, taking the plate from my hands and discarding it on the table. </p><p>Of course, I had thought of his offer, but this all seemed to be happening too fast. Tamlin had left only a few hours ago, and here I was discussing potential affairs with Lucien. Ultimately, I knew what I wanted—even if I wasn't totally ready to face it yet. </p><p>"I've considered your offer, but it's a difficult choice. I think I would need to understand what it would entail," I countered, thankful I still felt somewhat level-headed. </p><p>"…What it would entail?" He drawled, brushing his hand through the crest of his hair and licking his lips quickly. </p><p>"I would have you bound in my bedroom, like the animal you are. I would show you to value each of your senses as I took them away and cherish each moment your firm little rear isn't struck by my hand. I would leave your buttocks an even, <em>delectable</em> shade of red. I would have you writhe under me, begging for everything. I would have you scream your soul out into the fabrics of my bed-chamber. It would be our pleasure, and ours alone." His words descended into an indecent growl, and he swung one of my legs across his thighs so that I was straddling him. </p><p>"Tamlin's soft little tongue and flowered words have no hold in my chambers, nor does his name." He proceeded, gripping my chin firmly in his free hand. His eye was a steadfast ruby that injected blazing heat into my body. Each pump of my heart flushed waves of fire towards my core and away from my brain. His scent of smoked and spiced vanilla was intoxicating. His thumb dragged roughly along my jawbone, and his fingers deformed my lips, slowly pulling the bottom one down and open. </p><p>Impulsively, I cast out my tongue and licked at the tip of his fingers before they slid away. </p><p>Lucien laughed darkly in response but only gripped me tighter. In a confusing warp of colour, the kitchen disappeared. There was a sensation of falling, and then the darkness was replaced by warmth, and I recognized Lucien's bedpost. Once before, I had seen him skip through thin air in a swirl of darkness, but I would have never thought he could move <em>me</em> in such a way. Now his sizeable postered bed was beneath us, and we were enveloped in sumptuous curtains. </p><p>"So, do you accept sweet human?" He cooed, resting back and settling against a large cushion.</p><p>"Yes"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The moment you've all been waiting for is almost here! Brace yourself for some scandalous kink.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Sin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The moment we've been waiting for! This is a mammoth chapter of smut so settle in. Also, knives are generally not safe in the bedroom, this is a story!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Yes" </p><p>I said the words, and it felt like an oath or maybe a prayer; something final and binding; awesome and terrible. </p><p>His cruel mouth dominated mine and each point our bodies touched no longer became a focus but a blend of heat and pleasure. Everything felt overwhelmed and hot, like being chased through a burning building. I couldn't seem to have enough of those horrible lips on mine. <em>Gods</em>, the taste of him was divine; that mix of sweet spice, smoke, and crisp apple. His tongue was like a piece of candy swirling around my mouth. </p><p>Our hands moved to discard my suffocating clothing. I distantly remembered the swift and efficient way he had removed them before, the night I first came to the manor, and the night he had bathed me. Back then, I had found them clinical and efficient; but tonight, I found them practically <em>barbaric</em>. They tugged wildly at the laces of my corset, jerking my torso, dragging me across his hardness with each pull on the laces.  </p><p>Pieces of clothing were tossed away and unbound; I gasped for breath. I could feel my breasts heave against him, and I wrapped his mouth toward me. Then I was crudely flipped and pushed back into the mattress, still clinging to his hard frame. He withdrew and reached towards a bedpost, pulling out a long stretch of black silk. </p><p>"Do you remember this?" He asked, running the slippery tether over the backs of his fingers, pinning me to the bed with his thighs. </p><p>An image of the silken tie lengthening between us as Lucien gently pulled the kimono loose danced into my mind.<em> Oh, I remembered. </em></p><p>"Ah, you do. You see, I have thought each day of assorted ways I could torment you with this. Anything to replicate the torture you put me through, teasing me like such a naughty little human." </p><p>He spoke with barely veiled menace and dragged the fine silk lightly across my belly and between my breasts. I shuddered and arched off the bed as the material tickled my bare skin. He was still in his black leather riding clothes, and they scraped against my stimulated flesh. </p><p>Lucien gathered my wrists in one large hand and tied an intricate knot with the sash. Bound together, I pushed against the restraint but only felt it tighten. Lucien's smile was poisonous as he watched my horror unfold. Swiftly, he hooked a finger through the bonds, brought my hands sharply to the headboard, and wound them to the metal bed frame. </p><p>I stared accusingly at him and took in an abrupt breath, feeling my newly exposed sides. I was aware of the movement of each rib under my skin, lifting and presenting my chest towards him. </p><p>
  <em>What have I done?</em>
</p><p>Horror bloomed into agitation—and then dread. I remembered Lucien covered in the gore of the stag, smiling like he was insane, and I felt my heart drum widely in my chest.</p><p><em>Gods</em>, I had never been more afraid in my life.</p><p>Hungry lips sealed over my nipples, and I felt the weight of his head bob on my body as I hyperventilated. Pointed pleasure began to meld with my fear—but did nothing to quench it. Lucien's fingers fanned over my ribcage, and the pain of his coarse clothes against me picked at the threads of my sanity. His too hot mouth moved to caress my left breast, but his fingers firmly pinched the wet flesh of the first. I yelped in irritation, but it morphed into a moan as he sucked harder at me. </p><p>I didn't cry out when the second pinch came, but I did roll my hips hungrily. In response, his hands moved lower, ghosting over the exposed flesh of my legs—dangerously close to the dripping center of my pleasure. </p><p>I cried out helplessly when his fingers crushed the delicate skin of my inner thighs, startled by the sting. I glared accusingly at the handsome Faerie and ground against him, trying desperately to tempt him to delve inside of me. Lucien twisted my flesh even harder, transforming the sting into an agonizing burn that rippled up to the bundles of nerves at my core. </p><p>"Fuck, that <em>hurts</em>," I seethed, pulling against my bondage. </p><p>"Good...you deserve it. In fact, I think you deserve some more punishment for being a needy little brat," He raged, pulling back and gripping my ankles like an iron vice. </p><p>Lucien yanked both my feet up towards my head—giving him a splendid view of my naked rear. I twisted in the position, but his hand forced my feet higher and caused debilitating pain in my hamstrings. </p><p>The first crack of his palm on my rounded flesh reverberated into the room like timber popping in a fire. Another fell on the opposite cheek before I could even register the first. I contorted under him—furious but soaked in desire. </p><p>"Fucking <em>marvelous</em>…that's it, show me how much it hurts," He spat, delivering two more deafening blows to my squirming backside. He was laughing as he pushed the flesh of my rear around. Past the sting, I felt throbbing heat, like each touch had been amplified a thousand times over from the smacks. </p><p>"You're fucking sick," I hissed, loathing him with every ounce of my being.</p><p>"Oh, yes, I am," He chuckled but dipped his fingers towards my drenched core. </p><p>"<em>It seems like I'm not alone in my depravity</em>," And the bastard had the nerve to wink while scissoring the wetness between his fingers—showing me the evidence of my arousal. </p><p>I didn't know if I was more pissed off that he spanked me or that he didn't stop to insert the fingers inside of me. </p><p>Oblivious to my internal struggle, Lucien knelt back and untied his crimson hair. The shoulder-length tresses tumbled in soft copper curls around his chiselled face, and I hated how handsome I found him. Next, he undid his boots and overcoat, pausing to un-secure his jewelled dagger and toss it before us. Clothed in just a simple cream long-sleeve and his black leather britches, he bent forward and unsheathed the weapon. </p><p>"We're going to play a game, sweet human. Let's call it…<em>Sharp or Wet</em>," He said with an excited exhale. His golden eye was spinning wildly in its socket, and the scars in his cheek deepened in a malicious grin. </p><p>I rose my hips toward him, like the wanton little brat that I was.<br/>
I was beyond excited. </p><p>"Ah, but there's one more thing I need…here," He reached into a bedside dresser and produced a moulded leather blindfold. He rapidly secured the cover to my face, sheathing me in darkness. </p><p>"You may have guessed the rules, but I'll give a little demonstration before we truly start," He said, whispering against my right ear.<br/>
I felt the press of the knife against my ribcage—over my heart, and I froze. </p><p>"Is it sharp or wet?" He asked innocently, pressing the point deeper into my flesh. </p><p>"S-Sharp," I stuttered, trying not to breathe in a feeble attempt to keep the blade from impaling me.  Immediately the pressure was gone. </p><p>"Very good, sweet human," He cooed.<br/>
"Let's get started." </p><p>A soft lick rode up the inside of my arm. </p><p>"Wet," I murmured, already tormented by the game. With the blindfold on, I couldn't anticipate where the next sensation would be. My buttocks throbbed, and the pressure in my chest was inescapable. </p><p>A sudden dab of pressure into my bellybutton caused me to shrink back spasmodically. Lucien's tongue swirled greedily into the little hole, and his fingers dug into my thighs. </p><p>"Wet," I groaned, fantasizing that tongue diving between my legs.</p><p>Cold pressure pushed against my right hip, and it took me a moment to decern the source. Faint pain bloomed at the site as Lucien dug the blade harder into my skin. </p><p>"Sharp," I exhaled, confused at the flooding of heat I felt.</p><p>Lucien hiked my right knee up and onto the bedding; I flushed slightly, knowing my sex was fully exposed to him in this new position. I longed to feel his fingers brushing over me but was lost in the darkness of the blindfold. </p><p>There was pressure against my inner thigh, near the spot where he had pinched me. </p><p>"Sharp," I breathed; the blade was dangerously close to my hungry sex. </p><p>"What a sweet, sweet human you are, so good, so smart," Lucien cooed. </p><p>The pressure increased dangerously, and I squirmed despite myself. </p><p><em>Would he break the skin?</em><br/>
I didn't want that. But before I could scramble away, a searing drag of his tongue across my pubic bones halted all thought.  </p><p>
  <em>Oh yes. Finally, I would have what I needed.</em>
</p><p>"Wet," I moaned loudly, bucking my hips up into his mouth. I was pleased I remembered to continue the game. His tongue rewarded me, tracing over my folds, sluicing through the compliant and throbbing tissues. </p><p>"Oh yes, you are," He rumbled, and I felt his hand in my hair, undoing the blindfold. </p><p>The soft, romantic lighting of his chambers greeted my blinking eyes as I adjusted. Before me, the ravishing fox-faced male gazed over me possessively. His devilish mouth lowered again and suckled lightly. He delved into each curve and fold, drawing each bit out and worrying it between his full lips. Muscled arms pinned my hips to the bed, preventing any movement I wished to make. </p><p>The pleasure was excruciating but lacked any real friction that I could mount an orgasm around. I realized bitterly that this was another form of punishment. <em>I would take a spanking over this any day. </em></p><p>I began to whimper and make pleading little noises as he continued his exploration of my sex. Lucien ignored me, even slowing his movements to leisurely lapping.  </p><p>"Please," I cried softly, straining for the last shreds of my dignity. </p><p>"Please, what, sweet human?" </p><p>"Please fuck me," I moaned, turned on by the lewdness of my words. </p><p>"With what?" He enquired, purposely vapid.  </p><p>"With anything," I shook and mashed my fingers against the unforgiving silk bindings at my wrists. I wanted to hit him badly, to see how he liked being spanked and tortured. </p><p>"I'm <em>so</em> glad you said that," He confessed, and in never-ending horror, I watched as he pushed the jewelled hilt of his dagger into my slickened core.</p><p> I shuttered in revulsion as I felt the encrusting of gems brush slowly against me. I let out a choked scream at the invasion, but swallowed it as his mouth joined the slow penetration of the weapon. I was so starved for the sensation of being filled that I clenched around the hard metal as he shoved it into me. His lips began to suck rhythmically, matching the push of the dagger. A hand reached back and squeezed the reddened flesh of my bottom, and I was <em>undone</em> with the melding of pleasure, pain, and disgust.</p><p>I came mercilessly as Lucien fucked me with the opulent hilt, feeling the pommel push against my tightening walls. I rode out the wild spasms, and finally, Lucien slipped the offending object out of me. When he brought the warm, slick metal to my lips and pushed it inside, I was too spent to protest. I opened my mouth obediently and sucked, tasting myself and the tang of metal.</p><p>Lucien removed the hilt from my mouth and eagerly plunged it into his own, cheeks caving in suction as he cleaned off my juices. </p><p>"Such a <em>sweet</em> human," </p><p>My cheeks burned with modesty I wasn't sure I still possessed. I could have never guessed what this man was capable of, and this was just the start. I hung limply and felt Lucien start to undo the silken tie at my wrists, massaging each hand. When he moved to cradle my back, I didn't protest. His warm fingers continued to knead the flesh of my arms and sides—easing their stiffness. Slow hands drew the silk across my lips, and it felt like a lover's kiss. </p><p>"Good, sweet, human," He murmured behind me, adjusting the tie so that it anchored into my cheeks and grew taught in my mouth. </p><p>
  <em>He was gagging me. </em>
</p><p>I didn't feel as much panic as I should have as the black silk slowly brushed past my hair, and I bit down into the textile. Lucien kept whispering praise into my ear, and I could only think of pleasing him. </p><p>I welcomed the sensation of his heated hands, coasting down my body. They almost glowed red, like they were made of fire. My breath sounded too loud against the unyielding tie, and my drool saturated it quickly. Realizing my hands were free, I reached behind me and pawed at the covered piece of flesh at my back. I stroked it once and revelled in the little groan he gave. </p><p>My fingers deftly worked his shirt's buttons, then the laces of his britches—on a mission to unveil my reward. Drool was running in little rivers down my cheeks, and I struggled to swallow it back. When his cock burst out from his trousers, I gave a little moan. It was impossibly thick and hard, much like the wet silk that gagged me. I gripped him as rough as I could, suddenly vengeful from the spanking. </p><p>Lucien's hands quickly moved from their lazy circuit across my abdomen and gave my nipples a nasty twist. I tried to cry out a curse, but a pathetic garble of sounds was all that got past the gag. </p><p>"What was that?" He asked, twisting again at the oversensitive flesh. </p><p>I tried to say, "<em>Fuck you</em>," but it was unintelligible—I was furious. </p><p>"Did you want to say something? Oh, that's right…<em>you can't</em>," </p><p>Lucien's hand slipped up and caged around my throat, testing the flesh around the pulsing arteries of my neck. I writhed against his chest, lifting up off the bed—only to slam back down when the hand squeezed tighter.</p><p>"You belong to me,"</p><p>And in that moment, I did. </p><p>I pumped the steely flesh of his cock in my fist—starving for it to plunge within me. I was a lick of flame, alive and dancing against him. I started to beg, over and over through the inescapable gag. His digits slipped hungrily through my folds and dragged my slick juices up to my belly button.</p><p>"Please, please, please, please," I whimpered unintelligibly—full of shame. Saliva covered my chin and was starting to dribble to my chest. If he didn't fuck me soon, I thought I might explode and burn down this entire manor. </p><p>I felt him lean down to my right ear and bite at the flesh of it ferociously. </p><p>"Didn't I say that you'd beg?"</p><p>I nodded desperately. </p><p>Deft fingers undid the gag and pulled the soaked length out of my aching mouth. I whirled to face him, working my stiff jaw and wiping the coating of drool from my lips. </p><p>I was <em>enraged. </em></p><p>"What's next?" Lucien asked, lying back and smirking like the cat that ate the canary. </p><p>
  <em>What's next?</em>
</p><p>I spit at him, directly onto that handsome face, and it clanged softly against the copper mask. </p><p>Suddenly, I was afraid he would spank me again. </p><p>"Do it again," He demanded, but there was something evil behind his grin. </p><p>Instead, I ripped his open shirt off and tugged violently at his trousers. I was going to fuck the smile right off his stupid face. </p><p>His clothes vanished, and I didn't hesitate as I straddled his divine member and impaled myself with it. I worked myself hopelessly up and down on his absurd length—focusing solely on my own pleasure. I would use him as a meaningless toy; he didn't exist to me anymore.</p><p>I raked my nails over his ribs and across his berry-coloured nipples, leaving a trail of bright red lines. His chest became a masterpiece of hateful lacerations, and I moaned in delight. </p><p>When I caught sight of his lazily folded arms, resting above his head—I seized them and drove down towards his face, grinding my clit spitefully against him. </p><p>I bit at the point of his inhuman ear and whispered darkly into it, "<em>Repulsive fucking Faerie</em>."</p><p>Lucien cursed and seized my hair, turning my face to the side and <em>licking</em> the entire length of it. </p><p>His hand caught mine before I could reach up and smack him, wrenching it behind my back and using the other to grasp my hip. He pounded into me relentlessly, and my own motions became jagged on top of him.</p><p>My orgasm was blinding and unchained me from reality. I cried out like a beast and thrashed against Lucien's hold. He was chanting something in my ear, and it took a moment for me to translate the sounds into meaning.</p><p>"Good girl, good girl, good girl,"</p><p>I fell back into oblivion—snuffed out like a flame plunged into the ocean.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>whew! -offers glass of water-<br/>Please comment and tell me your favourite part! Or some other things you'd like to see Lucy and Feyre get up to. Don't worry, there's a lot more where this came from!</p><p>Also, I was thinking about posting this chapter on its own as a one shot of sorts, what do you think?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Sight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Been busy with work lately, but here's a little something for you!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The pointed edge of a dagger skimmed down my breastbone and etched across my stomach. The soft haze of my slumber evaporated as I felt the blade scratch over my flesh. </p><p>Gods, one of these days, Lucien <em>would</em> kill me. </p><p>I shivered, cracking an eyelid open and examining the devastating male beside me. </p><p>Flat russet stared back, twined with the mechanical golden iris of his left eye. His hair was perfectly tousled and danced on his chin and shoulders. A few pieces caught deviously in the filigree of his fox mask. He wore his black silk robe, hanging open to reveal a sculpted chest. The embroidered red dragon hung over his shoulder ominously. He looked entirely Fae, something I had forgotten too quickly last night.</p><p>The golden dagger was held between his thumb and index fingers in a loose pinch. Fear sliced instinctively through me, but I flushed when I remembered what he had done with the pommel last night. </p><p>"Did I wake you?" He said with a smirk that curled into his scar. </p><p>"No," I said tartly. </p><p>"I've been thinking..." he drawled, ignoring my comment—the dagger-point sliding down my right thigh. </p><p>"That you would make an excellent little bed slave," </p><p>My brows knit. <br/><em>Slave? </em></p><p>"I could just tie you up and keep you right here forever—mine to use." He continued, drawing the blade up to my mouth. </p><p>"I'm not a slave," I said softly, the dagger bouncing on my lips. </p><p>Lucien gave me an odd look but removed the weapon. </p><p>"No, you're so much more…but I'm greedy and might just steal you anyway, like the wicked little Faerie I am,"</p><p>He nipped at my shoulder and pinched my sides as his words descended into a familiar growl. </p><p>A part of me wanted nothing more than to be chained to Lucien's bed for eternity, to drown in his affection and punishments. The thought was terrifyingly seductive, but I knew him enough to sense the truth in his words. Given a chance, I think he <em>would</em> steal me. But there was nowhere to go; we were both trapped here now. </p><p>Nips and pinches developed into long strokes into my sides and kisses into my skin. Lucien shifted over me, and his robe tickled my arms and legs as it brushed against me. </p><p>"Do I have to beg for it again?" I said, feeling suddenly bold. My hips rose in question as his mouth travelled south. </p><p>Lucien's eyes narrowed in warning, and the candles around us seemed to flare brighter. </p><p>"Such a clever little slave." </p><p>His lips drew into a sinister smile that shocked all heat from my blood. I still struggled to understand the attraction I felt towards someone so dangerous.</p><p>My arousal crested to the surface as Lucien lowered without further prompting to my core. His mouth was hot and generous, creating pleasure with abandon. </p><p>I curled my fingers into the supple lengths of his dark crimson hair and urged him closer. Lucien let my hand direct his mouth up and down, indulging my every desire. My gaze drifted towards the candelabra above us, at the hazy starburst patterns scattering the ceiling from its maroon candles. The flames seemed to pulse and dance with my own pleasure, brightening when I felt the firm stroke of Lucien's finger over me. </p><p>I began to lose my grip on his hair as my orgasm built, and Lucien grew frantic in his movements, sensing I was close. I bucked into his mouth as he sucked at my most sensitive spot, moaning when I felt the pad of his thumb start to rub and press into my anus. The sensation was bizarre and tightened each part of my pelvis like a bowstring. His mouth ceaselessly served me, and I came, fearful and hopeful that he would press that thumb deeper into me. I wanted him to teach me how my body could feel, drag me into the depths of his world.  </p><p>He withdrew, and I ran my fingers through his hair, hands shaking from what he had done. I felt strangled by the warmth that rose in my chest as I looked into his masked face. He stilled, silent and patient. I sat up and took his head into my hands, fanning my fingers across his jaw and bringing it closer. </p><p>The warmth inside me was complicated, but one thought emerged from the mix of emotion I felt—<em>I wanted to see his face.</em></p><p>Sure, it was easy enough to know the shape of his cheekbones and the proud line of his nose through the scrolls of bronze, but I didn't want this barrier between us.</p><p> How did my curse lay me bare, but his obscure him?</p><p>I traced the edge of the mask where it met his cheek. </p><p>"Don't," He rasped, adam's apple bobbing with effort.</p><p>"Why?" I asked, confused by his reaction. Was he embarrassed?<br/>Lucien was invincible to me; <em>were his scars an insecurity? </em></p><p>But he didn't answer—or was incapable. He remained cradled between my palms, kneeling before me. </p><p>"Trust me?" I asked, encouraged by the uncertainty in his eyes. </p><p>A heavy sigh left him as he studied my face, tracing each of my features. </p><p>"Okay," He finally whispered. </p><p>I leaned in and kissed him deeply, battling the rapturous fluttering in my stomach. I didn't break the kiss as my fingers felt the edges of the mask, and delicately traced his buttery skin. I lifted at the sides of the fox mask, opening my lips into his. The corners lifted instantly under my touch. As I slowly drew back, I brought the ornate fox mask with me. </p><p>Lucien was perfect to me. His features were unique to any other male I had ever known, broad and structured. His skin was darker than mine and felt natural with the chaos of his hair. Violent scars twisted into his left eye socket and through his brow, creating an asymmetry that seemed to heighten his exotic features. He was everything I could have imagined and nothing like I had imagined simultaneously. </p><p>"You're beautiful and not cursed like he is," I stated, remembering how Tamlin distinctly described his inability to remove the golden mask—and his frustration at the fact. I looked down at the mask in my hands, trying to make sense of it. </p><p>"I am still cursed. But no, not like him." He said, casting his eyes down to the coppery piece in my lap. "But he doesn't know, so it needs to be our secret," </p><p>"Why?" I was well aware that there would have to be many secrets from Tamlin, but the reasoning here eluded me. </p><p>"I guess I wear it in solidarity for his curse, perhaps some unresolved guilt," He pondered, taking the mask from my fingers and setting it aside. </p><p>"But that's a long story, and that's far too much talk about him in my chambers," Lucien finished, taking my own face into his hands and smoothing over my temples. We kissed, and this time there was no hard metal caging his face from mine, our noses rubbed against each other, and I pressed my forehead into his. A new fear crept into my bones that I could have never anticipated—I was afraid of how much I cared for this male and all that he was. </p><p>"I never want to see you masked again, but I understand why you will be," I managed between kisses. </p><p>"Oh sweet human, I'm still masked—only in a different way," He mused, hugging my body to his own and pushing his stiffened member into my thigh. </p><p>"Now I'm going to fuck you again, and after you <em>will</em> eat breakfast, whether you like it or not," He seemed to promise to himself more than me. </p><p>He kept the mask off, and I took every opportunity to memorize his features, losing my grip on everything as each second passed us by.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Love's Shadow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I couldn't be sure where my body ended, and his began throughout the entire morning. Lucien volleyed between feverish passion and cruelty, captivating me entirely.</p><p>The sobering revelation that Tamlin would be returning today didn't cross my mind until late afternoon when my curse reanimated. With the help of a salve and continued healing, only tiny droplets of blood appeared where the thorns had once marred me.</p><p>But their presence had cursed me in another way, and I began to doubt what had transpired with Lucien.</p><p>
  <em>What was I doing?</em>
</p><p>Did I really expect to have it both ways? Could I genuinely hide this from Tamlin? Did I even want to?</p><p>Did I still care for Tamlin? At least that answer was easy, I knew I did.</p><p>Logically, being with Lucien should have changed how I felt about Tamlin or altered some mental order—<em>but it hadn't</em>. They were equal and opposite, like two sides to a coin. They were impossible to separate or rank. Tamlin was tender and a steadfast companion; I felt like a better version of myself around him. It felt like we had spent a lifetime together since I had come to the Spring Court, and he was firmly rooted in my heart.</p><p>Lucien was all fire and passion. He left me breathless and guessing at each move and word. I was starving to have him and sick of him in the same breath. He made me feel like an animal—awakening, hungry, and powerful. I had never felt more alive than when I was with Lucien, and I could tell I was falling for him. A vision of him unmasked and reading Fae poetry in his room warmed me.</p><p>So, I wanted them both, <em>now what</em>?</p><p>Lucien had said he was willing to share, and maybe that was enough. </p><p>Perhaps I should ask Tamlin instead of putting the words into his mouth. </p><p>If he truly loved me, he could see how my love for Lucien only complemented my love for him, not lessened it.</p><p>But then again, if he didn't see it that way, things could become catastrophic. What if he was angry at Lucien and me? Would he <em>hurt</em> someone? Or Himself?</p><p>I felt physically ill at the possibility of either of them harmed. I couldn't let it happen. This wasn't like when I found my blood in the chapel; I had no honourable question to ask Tamlin here.</p><p>I came to my conclusion: I couldn't tell him.</p><p>Amid my worrying, the sky darkened, and a second night fell. Tamlin had not returned from his quest to slay the Suriel, and I started to consider that something had happened to him.</p><p>Tamlin had conceded that he might be gone for two nights, but it had seemed unlikely; even Lucien was under the impression that the Fae would have been back by <em>now</em>.</p><p>I clutched my stomach as I thought of the Suriel overwhelming Tamlin's armoured frame, slashing frantically to defend against the ghastly creature. I pictured its willowy and towering form, siphoning coils of life from Tamlin's limp body.</p><p>My eyes fell onto the small portrait above the mantle place in my room. Tamlin's comical 'horse-face' stared down at me, and I felt a tear slip down my cheek as I thought of the day it was painted. It was the first time in almost eight years that I had taken a brush to canvas, and it had been one of the happiest of my life. </p><p>Tamlin had given me that.</p><p>I cried unabashedly. Furious at myself for jeopardizing our relationship and scared he would never return. Red-eyed, I steadied and took to pacing at the steps of the grand staircase. </p><p>Idly, I wondered how I always ended up walking this foyer, waiting for Tamlin.</p><p>Lucien lounged casually against the stairs, lazily eating charcuterie and reading a worn paperback.</p><p>"He will return, sweet human; you fret for nothing," He said with an apathetic sneer.</p><p>"I know you could care less, but I actually want him to come home," I returned, agitated that he was downplaying my concerns.</p><p>"You're not the <em>only one</em>who cares for him, you know," he returned cryptically, then vanished with a dark swirl.</p><p>I didn't share a bed with Lucien that night, consumed with dread over Tamlin. I kept telling myself that I felt guilty over my intimacy with Lucien, but it didn't quite fit.</p><p> I didn't regret what happened, but I knew it threatened what I already had. Regardless of the intricacies, I wasn't in the mood to be swept up in Lucien's embrace while Tamlin could lay dying in the woods.  </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The morning was misty and lingered into the afternoon, chilling the earth. The grass seemed an unnatural green, too bright for the pallor of the day. My eyes were trained on the horizon for something that was becoming a myth in my mind. Something told me my lover would never return; the sick sense of premonition choked me. It had been too long, and the court's energy was too wrong for something terrible not to have happened.</p><p>My frantic remorse of yesterday had morphed into a resigned defeat as the morning wore on. I lay on a concrete bench, facing the crest of the northern hills and the treeline beyond. I had refused breakfast and declined Lucien's company, and he wasn't the type to delve into my feelings, so he left. He never could heal this part of me, and he knew it.</p><p>I felt sick. </p><p>Absently, I registered the lack of birdsong around me. It was a fixture on the grounds since I arrived, and its absence was fitting with my mood.</p><p>And then, a spot appeared amongst the trees and grew larger. <em>It was him</em>.</p><p>I sat up so fast that my head rushed, and my vision blackened, but it couldn't stop me from plummeting down the path to the stables, calling out his name. </p><p>"What's wrong, Feyre?" </p><p>Tamlin dismounted and closed the distance between us, one hand on his scabbard.</p><p>"I was worried…you didn't come back," I got out, at once feeling foolish for my melodramatic behaviours. I cradled his masked face in my hands and pulled his lips to my own, rising on my tip-toes to push against him.</p><p>He was warm and smelt like grass. My muscles bunched then relaxed, releasing their tension. I ran my fingers through his hair and gathered it into my fists, deepening our embrace.</p><p>"What happened?" I gasped when his lips moved to nuzzle my neck.</p><p>"Some Naga…ambushed…spent a night in a tree, picking them off… couldn't find the Suriel," He managed as I climbed into his arms, pressing my hips against him. </p><p>So the Suriel still lurked in the woods, a shame but not so great considering Tamlin had returned.</p><p>"And you're not hurt?" I asked, moving to lift my skirts. Tamlin pressed me up against a rough wooden beam and lowred his gloved hand to my waist.</p><p>"Do I look hurt?" He smiled into my mouth and slipped his leather-clad fingers through my legs.</p><p>The smooth brush of his slim leather gloves sent a thousand shivers up my spine and threw my eyes up to the heavens. I moaned my approval. </p><p>This was what I needed, he was alive and unharmed, and I needed our bodies to be joined. I needed to banish the dread I had felt in his absence, the darkness that had crept over me. </p><p>His fingers rolled my flesh and spread the growing wetness around in their exploit. One slipped into me, and I bucked my hips towards him, sending it much deeper than he intended. It felt glorious.</p><p>A part of me felt distinctly naughty for having this devastating Faerie slip his gloved fingers in and out of me in the stable. Supple leather glided along my flesh and the friction created all sorts of involuntary movements in my body. I sucked his lip approvingly, and his groan was music to my ears.</p><p>"More," I breathed, eyeing the tent in his tight leather britches.</p><p>"As you wish,"</p><p>Tamlin's member was quickly liberated before sheathing into me. I tightened my legs around him and arched my back into the timber beam, savouring his stretch.</p><p>A gasped: "<em>Gods</em>," was all I could manage as he thrust against me. His hands cupped the flesh of my rear and shielded it from rubbing against the splintering wood. But that hand also served to rotate my hips and drive each thrust deeper. </p><p>Tamlin was savage in a way I had never seen before, and I could only guess that he had missed me as I had missed him.</p><p>When my legs began to fail, he lowered and spun my body hastily, so I was facing the wooden column. Entering me from behind, he set a brutal pace that left me stuttering. Each breath I took pounded out of me, his armour slapped against flesh possessively.</p><p>And then I was coming—holding onto the wood before me for dear life, letting passion erase all my fears.</p><p>Only one thought followed me, <em>I would never let him leave like that again. </em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I have some chapters ready to post each week, sorry I've been MIA!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Barter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I don't want you to go looking for it again," I repeated, letting weight enter my words.</p><p>After our reunion in the stables, Tamlin had insisted we join Lucien in a drawing-room to discuss the results of his journey. The three of us sat spaced around a lacquered coffee table, clutching cups of dark wine.</p><p>I was avidly avoiding any and all eye-contact with the red-headed Fae to my left. I thought it was a wonder Tamlin hadn't stormed into the manor and smelt the sex in every molecule of air. My hair still clung to the spiced vanilla soaps he used, and I made a mental note to bathe as soon as possible.</p><p>Then I found myself looking at Lucien, imagining him <em>in</em> the bath with me, rubbing soap over my breasts like Tamlin had when we first made love. </p><p>Suddenly, all three of us were in that bathtub, melding into each other, wet and warm.</p><p>I physically shook my head. Tamlin took it as an addition to my previous statement and launched into another explanation of why he <em>had</em> to hunt the Suriel.</p><p>"It's the principle of it, Fayre. The Suriel displayed a threat to my court and would harm something that is <em>mine</em>. I must eliminate it," He bristled.</p><p> I had decided somewhere between thinking he was dead and stumbling into the house from the stable—that I never wanted to take the risk again. It was too dangerous for him to be out there on his own, too many enemies and possibilities.</p><p>
  <em>Why couldn't he see that? Why was he resisting?</em>
</p><p>Lucien had not added to either side and instead alternated, examining his fingernails and staring into the distance. He looked bored to death, and it pissed me off. </p><p>I was trying to protect Tamlin and being distracted by erotic imagery, but Lucien wasn't phased by anything? It was cold, and it was very Fae.</p><p>I tried again, "Look, I care more about you than the honour of slaying a Lesser Fae that wants me for dinner; it's as simple as that. What happens when the Suriel is gone? The threat is replaced, and that's the reality of being a human in Prythian," It was, and I had come to terms with that fact.</p><p>"And what about your family?" He asked, barely letting me finish my last sentence.</p><p>
  <em>Ouch.</em>
</p><p>"Well, maybe it's safer for them, me, and you if I just stay here,"<br/>Tamlin's mouth pressed into a thin line, but Lucien's eyes were on me.</p><p>"You would stay here, forever?" Lucien asked, soft and seductive. It was the first time he had spoken in the last half-hour.</p><p>"Why not?" I challenged.</p><p>"She…you don't mean that," Tamlin said, rolling his eyes. "For the love of the Goddess, I can handle my self,"</p><p>I was angry Tamlin had decided the meaning of my words for me. Perhaps I wasn't ready to give up my family and sentence myself to a lifetime in the Spring Court—but that was my choice to share. </p><p>Right now, when I took stock of what mattered in my life, Tamlin was at the top, and I wouldn't risk his death to race back to the life of a miserable starved village girl.</p><p>"Can we just wait a week before you race out there again?" I pleaded, feeling panicked he would set out again at dawn.</p><p>"Even Lucien was worried about you; it's not fair of me to risk you like this. I like it here; I can wait." I added hastily, reaching to twine my fingers with his.</p><p>"A week, then we talk, but I have to at least do nightly rounds on the estate," Tamlin granted, but then turned his attention to Lucien.</p><p>"You were actually worried about me?" </p><p>Their eyes met, and I looked away, terrified that somehow our secrets would be bared.</p><p>"Always," Lucien replied, and I suddenly felt like an intruder. Lucien's answer shocked me—but maybe it shouldn't have. These men had been each other's soul companions for decades. Perhaps it was just that their frosty attitudes made it easy to forget.</p><p>My eyes drew back to them like a magnet, and a moment passed silently between them. I suddenly wondered about the past years and the status of their friendship throughout. Had they once been quite close? Did things wax and wane as time passed? Were they sick of each other now?</p><p>And why was it just Tamlin and Lucien left here after the Spring Court was cursed? Lucien clearly wasn't from here, so why had he been spared from the slaughter that fateful day?</p><p>I realized I had no answers to my questions despite the hours I had spent getting to know Tamlin. He rarely spoke of the other male and what life had been like before I came, but more of his childhood and what the court had been like before his curse. Lucien gave out personal details like blood came from stones—so there was no surprise on that front. But Tamlin shared so much, I never noticed how he had skipped over Lucien entirely.</p><p>My brows knit, and I squinted, trying to see how the pieces fit together and make sense of the Fae.</p><p>"It's settled, now tell me, what did you get up to while I was gone? Any new masterpieces to show me?" Tamlin focused a bright smile down at me, and I was momentarily speechless. Then my brain started to work again, and I realized I had been having a lot of sex while he was gone, and the only masterpiece I had created was the nail marks on Lucien's chest.</p><p>"Oh, this and that," I mused demurely and gestured with my free hand. "Some riding," I added, that was the truth; we had been on a ride through the gardens.</p><p>"Lots of riding," Lucien offered, stealing a smirk in my direction when Tamlin wasn't looking.</p><p>The <em>nerve</em> of him. I didn't grace the smug comment with any of my own and focused all my attention on Tamlin—like I had never heard it.</p><p>"Oh, I hope you didn't ride that hell-beast Aleron again. If I'm not allowed to hunt the Suriel for danger's sake, surely you can give up that stallion," Tamlin chided softly; I could tell he wasn't over my choice about the Suriel.</p><p>"No need to fret; there was a different choice to ride, a timid and gentle beast," I replied warmly and slid a look to Lucien.<br/><em>Two could play at this game.</em></p><p>Tamlin smiled, obviously pleased I had chosen to heed his advice and take care in his absence. In the corner of my eye, I could almost see Lucien pulse with anger, he had not been timid nor gentle, but it was hard to pass up an opportunity to please Tamlin and enrage Lucien.</p><p>"You must be exhausted," I said and realized the truth in my words. Tamlin's hair and clothes were disheveled and sported small twigs and leaves. Gods, something about this man…or Fae—made me go all mother hen.</p><p>I rose and headed towards the door. I didn't have to say a word for Tamlin to follow behind me as we made our way to his chambers.</p><p>He lounged in the bathing chamber, and I sunk to my knees as I undid his boots. Covered in riding furs and looking down at me with that male smile made him look like an otherworldly king.</p><p> I slowly undressed him, not once rising for a kiss, but kept myself close to the ground. I massaged little circles into his calves as I worked and pressed kisses to his knees. I was so thankful I could still have this with him and tried not to wonder how long things would be like this.</p><p>He was the only male I could ever need, right?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Fence</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When I saw Lucien heading towards me down the hallway, I turned and made for the opposite stairwell.</p><p>We hadn't spoken in private since Tamlin had returned, and to say things were tense, was an understatement. I still didn't know how to handle what was happening here in the Spring Court and where I fit into it, and I was not ready to face him.</p><p>I had taken careful notice of the different passages from my room while I was here and knew there were multiple ways to the front rooms that would avoid the male's path. I hoped that he hadn't seen me when I rounded the distant corner and picked up my step.</p><p>It was not that I was <em>afraid</em> of Lucien, more that I was scared of what I would do around him. It had been over forty-eight hours since we had <em>been</em> together, and despite multiple sessions with Tamlin—a Lucien sized itch worked at my spine.</p><p>Half of me had hoped I would get over it when Tamlin returned, blindly forget the mind-altering sex we had. Forget that I unmasked him and spent an hour tracing his face with my fingers, memorizing each line. Because forgetting made all of this easier, made the emotions simple, made my choices for me.</p><p>It bought me the illusion of time, and what can I say? I'm a coward.</p><p>A dark laugh echoed through the narrow winding staircase I was descending, and I knew Lucien was close behind me. This had not worked at all. I took the stairs two at a time, trying to outrun the mess of emotions within me.</p><p>When I reached the bottom, He was leaning against the arched entrance, waiting for me.</p><p>"Boo," He mocked.</p><p>He looked menacing, and sexual energy radiated off him in dark waves. I took a step back.</p><p> "Ah, Ah, Ah, I wouldn't run if I were you, sweet human," He gave me an uneven, tight-lipped smile. Suddenly I remembered how he killed that stag and the transient madness that entered him.</p><p>In a second, I had done multiple calculations, including the chances of actually getting away, the chance of Lucien decapitating me, and the chance that Tamlin would find us before I let this Faerie take me against the wall.</p><p>There was no escape, and we potentially had at least five minutes alone. A small part of me stirred at being alone with him again—but it was a part that I quickly beat back.  </p><p>He laughed again. "I can see you thinking, the answer is no, you can't avoid me forever," and pushed off the wall towards me.</p><p>I didn't breathe or move a muscle, but silently, I allowed my eyes to wander over his frame. Today he was wearing black plated pieces with ruby embellishments. His copper mask matched with a holstered copper sword on his left hip. I decided that he was utterly devastating. </p><p>The gentle rub of leather telegraphed his movements as he stalked up the few steps between us, and I wondered how he had caught up to me. Probably that stupid disappearing trick from before. Could Tamlin also do that?</p><p>Lucien leaned in close, backing me up against the smooth stack of stones and used his arm to cage me.</p><p>"I would give you a head-start, my sweet human," He purred, looking way too eager to chase me through the manor.</p><p>"I can't," I exhaled, vibrating at his nearness.</p><p>"Oh, you can; I bet you would even scream as you ran from me," He barred his teeth in a mock smile. Even in the shadowy corridor, they gleamed an unnatural white.</p><p>"I mean, I can't do this with you anymore," I looked down to emphasize the almost tangible sexual energy between us. It wouldn't do; what if Tamlin just appeared before us right at this very moment? What could I possibly say?</p><p>"Is that what you want?"</p><p>"Well, it's what needs to be done, right?" I replied, unnerved by the way his head kept dipping closer, and his breath coasted across my cheekbones. He was so close that I could kiss him, taste that wonderful mouth. I could send the mask flying to the ground and hold him as we melded into each other.</p><p>I could do so many things.</p><p>"You're wrong," He breathed.</p><p>"You need a firm hand; he is no substitute for me. Don't you think his story about the Naga was a little unusual? You seriously believe he couldn't shred fifteen of them in a matter of minutes?"</p><p>"You sound jealous," I replied coolly. How dare he redirect from a conversation that we needed to have. And trying to pit me against Tamlin? Ugh, he was just as bad as I was at avoiding things. His version of avoidance just looked different from mine.</p><p>"Is that what you need to hear, sweet human? That I'm horribly jealous? That I pine for you every minute we are apart? That I said I would share, but it kills me to have another lay his hands on you? Do you need to hear those things to let yourself experience pleasure?" His tone was mocking and pleading at the same time. There was a silver of hatred that shredded me, but I wasn't sure if he hated himself more for how desperate he sounded.</p><p>He was breathing heavily, and passion flashed dangerously in his eyes. He was so close I could smell the leather and spice of his skin, I could feel heat seep out of his body, and I was quickly losing my resolve. Maybe that was what I had to hear. Since when did being desired hold such sway over me?</p><p>On the other hand, why was I creating all these rules for myself? I had already done this with Lucien and knew how I felt about him. Why did we need to talk about it so fucking much?</p><p>I had told Tamlin to wait a week before he ran out after the Suriel; how come I couldn't put off this conversation with Lucien another week?</p><p>I just needed to feel him again; why did it have to be complicated?</p><p>I was about to lean in and join our lips together, to finally scratch that ich—when Lucien straightened and stepped away.</p><p>"Human, you are not permitted to use that bow any longer. You have damaged a rosebush, and those belonged to Tamlin's mother," Lucien scolded abruptly.</p><p>To my utter shock, he turned and began to walk away from me.</p><p>I stood there, gaping like a fish.</p><p>
  <em>What in the Gods name?</em>
</p><p>"That's the end of the conversation," He called out behind him before stalking out of sight.</p><p>Then I heard Tamlin's steps above, descending the stairwell.</p><p>
  <em>Fuck. </em>
</p><p>I straightened my skirts quickly and did my best to transform my lust into chagrin. What was I going to say? I <em>hadn't</em> been shooting arrows into the rosebushes—couldn't Lucien have thought of a better excuse for us to be talking?</p><p>This was messed up; I needed to get a hold of things.</p><p>Tamlin was there too quickly, and I rearranged my face into a scowl.</p><p>"Ah, it's okay little one. I heard Lucien's punishment. Not to worry, I'm sure it was an accident," Tamlin said with a lazy smile. I relaxed when he ruffled my hair and looped his arm through my elbow, leading me to the front rooms.</p><p>Crisis averted.</p><p>"I thought you could help me in the library today with some books on curses," He continued, with no hint of anger or suspicion in his voice.</p><p>"Like mine, or yours?" I replied, relieved. </p><p>"Like both of ours," He answered with a smile.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Compendium</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tamlin and I had camped out in one of the libraries for most of the day. The room was a single rectangular vault with a two-story domed ceiling. It was a masterpiece of cherry-coloured wood, and the golden spines of thousands of books flashed back at me in the gentle light. <br/>Idly, I wondered just how many libraries this place had.</p><p>The eight-foot span of wings mounted high on the wall reminded me that I had seen this room before, and a shiver went down my own spine. Tamlin had told me those were a trophy from his father's war days, but something about the wings turned my stomach. I recoiled and looked towards the giant fireplace cradled into a corner of the room. Maybe a fire would shake the oppressive feeling of those dark wings. </p><p>The kindling ignited with a large <em>whoosh</em>, and I had just started to feel the first tendrils of warmth before Tamlin was at my side.</p><p>"We cannot risk a fire in this section of the library," He said imperiously, waving a hand towards the expanse of ancient books.</p><p>"I guess that's understandable, sorry," I murmured, feeling a bit guilty. </p><p>I wasn't about to argue; I was still half-convinced he must have known what Lucien and I were discussing in the stairwell minutes ago. Tamlin must have known how close I was to wrapping my lips, then legs around the other male.</p><p>He extinguished my fire quickly and wrapped a fur around my shoulders, leading me towards a plush chaise. A quick kiss later, and I was securely tucked away with a stack of books. And Tamlin was soon surrounded by dusty tombs in another corner.</p><p>I picked up the nearest book and flipped through the pages. It was unlikely that I would open the first page and discover the cure to my curse, but I tried to have the right attitude. Tamlin had been looking into the literature for weeks and found very little of use to us. I didn't think he expected me to be the one to crack the case by any means. Maybe he had just wanted some company, and I was happy to give it.</p><p>The first page had many names connected by a complicated series of lines. Births, deaths, and marriages over a thousand years were carefully detailed. This looked like some sort of lineage record, and a quick flip through the pages confirmed my guess. Every page contained similar documents, and I stifled a yawn. This was not the sort of research I was into.</p><p>After sorting through stacks of lineage-based books and finding nothing of note, I slumped back into my cozy little space and rested my eyes. <br/>Tamlin looked adorable when he was busy, and I hated to disturb him or leave because I was bored. It wasn't fair of me to ask him to study each day to break my curse but then refuse to tough it out with him.</p><p>I jumped a bit as something hard fell with a whomp onto the pile of blankets in my lap. A miniature cloud of dust announced the arrival of a rusty coloured book with bright silver writing.</p><p>"<em>McFothergill's Lesser Fae Compendium: Spring Edition</em>" was printed neatly across the cover. I looked up, but only dusty moats floated within the rafters of the ceiling—it seemed to have come from nowhere. I cracked open the cover and nearly gasped at the colourful illustrations on each page—finally, something more my speed.</p><p>A quick check in Tamlin's direction told me he hadn't noticed the compendium's mysterious arrival, nor was he responsible for it. My curiosity burned—<em>did the manor itself want me to read this?</em></p><p>The first page I saw detailed the slight body of a feminine creature. Its skin was grey, and oil-slick coloured hair hung wetly over its chest. Its mouth was open to display rows of jagged teeth that accompanied the flared slits of its nose. A manageable section of text told me this was a 'water-wraith' and could be found in any of Prythian's water sources. A bolded warning explained that the creatures were ravenous and had been known to eat anything in times of duress, including Fae.</p><p>Yikes, I could add that to the list of things I never wanted to see in person. </p><p>Speaking of things I never wanted to see in person, the next page I turned to had an imposing black-figure ensconced in a swirl of darkness. I knew without reading the title that this was the Suriel that had caused me so much strife. Just as Tamlin had described, a skeletal face peeked out through thread-bare robes, and I could almost feel its cold boney fingers against my spine.</p><p>I greedily took in the description that accompanied the ghastly image.</p><p>
  <em>"The Suriel is a rare Fae seen within any Prythian court, and thus included in our Spring edition. Not much is known of the creature. It is an extreme danger to Fae and other beings, using soul siphoning to kill its prey. As with many Fae, it is attracted to fresh blood—especially that of fowl. Some say the Suriel is a harbinger of truth, but not many live to tell any truths that it may or may not have told. Physically it stands about nine feet tall, and its form appears decayed. We have no information on execution methods at this time."</em>
</p><p>Well, some of that I knew, some I did not. Why fowl? And what did they mean about being a <em>'Harbinger of truth'</em>?. That was something Tamlin had never mentioned. Did they mean that it couldn't lie? This was a rumour I had heard when I was a small child. But I had quickly dismissed it when I met the boys. Lucien was undoubtedly lying to Tamlin about our relationship. But maybe the Suriel was different?</p><p>While interesting that the Suriel carried this bizarre characteristic, I wasn't sure how useful that piece of information was. Just as McFothergill had said, not many survived to speak of any truths the thing had told, and I certainly wouldn't stand a chance.</p><p>I chewed my lip, unsure if I should bring the page to Tamlin. He had eluded to specific conditions to catch the Suriel and on-going plans—surely he knew of this small blurb of information. Furthermore, what if I brought it to him and he decided to go back on our deal? My heart clenched at the thought of him being gone again, hunting this monster. </p><p>He needed to see that I would trust him to take care of things—and I did. But in the back of my mind, I knew all information I had was useful information. I was a stranger to this world, and outside these lavish halls, there was any number of things that could cause me serious harm. If a time ever came when I was on my own, I wanted to be prepared for whatever reason. I would always be that starving girl running through the forest after a kill, and that made me smile.</p><p>I knew Tamlin well enough to know that he wouldn't see that the way I did. To him, this whole thing was a minor annoyance and his responsibility. I could tell he hated to stress me with any information, but sometimes I <em>needed</em> to know.</p><p>Maybe if my parents hadn't have spoiled us so much as children, kept us sheltered from the realities of the world, things would have been different when the money was gone. Maybe my sisters would have acclimatized better to our new lives; we could have made investments with what was left, instead of squandering it.</p><p>I quickly closed the book and tucked it beside me in the furs, stealing a glance in his direction. When I was alone later in the night, I could continue, but I didn't want Tamlin to catch me right now.  </p><p>I pulled open the nearest lineage report when I heard Tamlin stirring at his desk, feigning interest in the marriage and death of Ualin the Green. The corner of McFothergill's compendium digging into my side as he approached. </p><p>"I think I've found a way to finally free you from this curse, but we can't get our hopes up just yet,"</p><p>My eyes widened, and any thoughts about the Suriel vanished. I traced over the skin on my forearms, mentally calculating the time until I would bleed. Could he really have found a way to stop this? </p><p>"There is a ritual called Calanmai next week that dates back many years. We haven't…celebrated since… well since my people were gone," He trailed off with a pained look on his face.</p><p>"But there is power in the night, and with you here, I believe we can harness it to break the curse of the wall,"</p><p>"That's…<em>amazing</em>, Tamlin," I replied because I didn't know what else to say. It wasn't the solution to all of my problems, and it wasn't even guaranteed to work—but something felt right when he spoke of Calanmai. Something within me knew this was an essential piece of what needed to be done, like a step I had been destined to take.</p><p>A soft beat echoed through the room, but Tamlin didn't seem to notice it.</p><p>"And I think you'll like the ceremony," He said with a secretive grin.</p><p>"What's that supposed to mean?" I laughed. </p><p>"The Great Rite is <em>pleasure-based</em>…" He murmured, licking his lips like a hungry cat.</p><p>A hot tingle worked itself through both of my legs and travelled upwards with a flourish.</p><p>"Say no more."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Clockwise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I studied the flashy rim of my dinner plate. </p><p>A tight coil of gold looped its way around and came to a head at the twelve o'clock position. There lay a snake with its jaws wrenched open, fangs an arc of gold against pure white. It poised to strike a golden fruit that its tail offered.</p><p>I stabbed a slice of roasted apple and swept it into my mouth, chewing thoughtfully.</p><p>It was hard to explain how I was feeling, even to myself. There was a warmth I knew came from what Tamlin and I had done upstairs before dinner—a demonstration of the ritual on Calamai. </p><p>But there was something else there, profound and foreign.</p><p>It was like—like I had started spinning the moment I entered Prythian, and suddenly, today, the direction had been reversed. Clockwise was now counter-clockwise; the fall was now a flight, and I had <em>hope</em>.</p><p>Tamlin's voice droned on to my left, and I looked up to meet the gaze of the auburn male across from me. He rolled his eyes and lifted the corner of his mouth—a gesture just for me.</p><p>I couldn't help my own lips as they formed a smile in return. Tamlin had spent the past hour discussing repairs around the estate, to which Lucien had responded with a singular nod. The two males were almost predictable at this point.</p><p>Once this conversation might have made me uncomfortable, but now I found amusement in how quintessentially <em>them</em> it was.  </p><p>I pushed at the grains on my plate, called back into my own mind—considering my situation in Prythian.</p><p>I had several barriers to face before seeing my family again, so I formed them into a sort of mental checklist.</p><p><em>One</em>:The Suriel.</p><p> From the first day, this nightmare had hunted me through the Spring Court—and later attacked Tamlin to get to me. I was no match for it, and any attempt I made to return home would lure it to my own family. </p><p>An image flashed in my mind of the giant skeletal being—hunched over Nesta's body, draining the life from her while the husks of Elaine and my father lay on the floor.</p><p>
  <em>Nope, avoid at all costs. </em>
</p><p>Tamlin had a plan, many in fact. And while the first had not been fruitful...he had been close. But despite the significant challenge the Suriel posed, I still stood by my request to have him hold all slaying expeditions.  </p><p>I thought about the hidden <em>McFothergills Compendium</em>, wedged between the layers of my mattress—maybe with a little bit more research, we could lure the Suriel to a spot of our choosing, something safer. Once, Tamlin had even spoken of a deal that could be made with it. </p><p>I could work with that. </p><p>I decided that issue number one had a '<em>pending</em>' status.</p><p><em>Two</em>: Exiting the wall.</p><p>By some magical fluke, I had entered through the wall between our worlds. And when we went back to examine it—it had been sealed to me, a Feyre-shaped patch of roses marking the breach. </p><p>But the wall was old, and Tamlin assured me small cracks existed along its length that we could find and utilize. Of course, this would require a careful expedition along the invisible barrier until one was found—leaving us vulnerable to Naga, Suriel, and the Gods knew what other Lesser Fae.</p><p>So, issue one complicated the second—but if the Suriel was conquered?</p><p>I felt a smile cross my lips. Things became much more straight-forward and had a higher chance of success.</p><p>But even if the other issues were addressed, the final item on my list had seemed impossible…until today.</p><p><em>Three</em>: My curse</p><p>No normal girl had arms that cut open as invisible thorns raked across them each day. Sure, I could bind them and hide the bleeding, but without the daily healing sessions—the area would never get a chance to recover. I knew they would worsen each day, and I might have a week before becoming immobilized by the injury.</p><p>I wouldn't be able to hunt or do any of the things that kept my family alive. I would be just like my father. And even if we could get by, if someone from the village even found out? I would be <em>burned</em>.</p><p>Witchcraft was a severe offence in all the holds around our village and not to be taken lightly. It wouldn't matter that I had no gain from the daily wounds—anything that couldn't be explained was as good as dead in that world.</p><p>Today, all that changed.</p><p>Today I could see a world where I could return to my family unmarred, healthier even.</p><p>
  <em>Calanmai</em>
</p><p>I silently mouthed the word to myself, feeling the serpentine movement of my tongue over the odd name.</p><p>Once a great festival of fire and carnal passions, it injected the land with the power of growth and change. A 'Great Rite' was performed where the land's magic entered Tamlin and was released when we joined.</p><p>Traditionally he had directed this to the land's prosperity. However,  cleared of inhabitants, there was no longer a need. The rite itself had not even been performed since the massacre of his court, which was understandable.</p><p>I still didn't get how he could transfer this into an unbinding power that cleaved me from the effects of Prythian and that of the curse.  It had never been done before, but he seemed confident the magic could be re-directed at his will. But magic was something I didn't think I could ever understand. </p><p>The fact that breaking my curse involved rolling around in a cave making love to Tamlin was...an unexpected bonus.</p><p>Although he had told me to not get my hopes up—it was impossible to quench the growing excitement inside me. Finally, I felt a modicum of control re-enter my life, that I could be strong Feyre again. That I didn't have to be bound here against my will. That the curse of that damned wall couldn't dictate whether I saw my family or not—was exhilarating. There was a long list of things to be done, but to cross one off—made a world of difference to me.</p><p>But there was one more problem on my list, and try as I might to ignore it—I couldn't.</p><p>Did I really want to leave?</p><p>What would I do if everything worked?</p><p>I loved both these men that sat before me, but that was a problem. I was being unfaithful to Tamlin but faithful to myself. I was also riddled with guilt. </p><p>These relationships were impossible, but should I just walk away?</p><p>Could I? </p><p>I stabbed angrily at the pastry on my plate. It was perfectly flakey and kept falling off the tines of my fork.</p><p>
  <em>Perfectly painful, Painfully perfect.</em>
</p><p>"Tell me, sweet human, what has he done to make you so murderous tonight?" Lucien questioned while twirling his own fork between his tawny fingers.</p><p>"<em>Tamlin</em> makes me perfectly happy; I just got caught up thinking about a different matter,"</p><p>"It appears not," He mused with a devilish grin. One of his fingers stroked the jewelled dagger at his belt, and I flushed.</p><p>
  <em>We both knew where that had been.</em>
</p><p>Why was he causing trouble like this? And why couldn't he keep that mouth shut when it mattered?</p><p>"I'll remind you that Feyre's pleasure is none of your concern, emissary," Tamlin said with an absolutely glacial tone.</p><p>All sound seemed to suck out of the room, and the small hairs on the nape of my neck stood on end.</p><p>Tamlin had never referenced my relationship with Lucien in the slightest.<br/>
Again, I was concerned about what Tamlin would do if he ever found out the truth. Before I could chime in and smooth over the situation, Lucien spoke up.</p><p>"<em>Emissary</em>? Is that really all I am here?" </p><p>There was a deadly sort of challenge in those words, and with them—the room darkened.</p><p>I was suddenly terrified that Lucien would reveal what we did just to wipe the smirk off the other male's face, to disrespect him as he had been. </p><p>I needed a distraction, and I needed it fast.</p><p>How about the truth?</p><p>"I was thinking about how if this plan on Calanmai works, it would mean that I'm one step closer to losing you," I said, directing the words to the barely eaten food on my plate. </p><p>I knew Tamlin would take it as a comment to him, but I hoped Lucien would also be distracted into thinking it had a deeper meaning for us.</p><p>And wouldn't you know it—the truth worked.</p><p>The ice evaporated from the room, and I cautiously lifted my eyes quickly to Lucien, then Tamlin.</p><p>Tamlin spoke, "You don't have to loose anything Feyre...I can visit,"</p><p>I gave him a stern look, searching for the jest in his words. </p><p>Could he?</p><p>Picturing Tamlin visiting us in our one-room shack was laughable. But it did put another idea into my head. Maybe I could still see them? Who's to say we couldn't eventually find a stable break in the wall, and I could cross over and stay awhile. </p><p>"Could I come here instead?" I asked, voice small. Maybe that was forbidden or carried too much danger. It was never something I had considered. </p><p>"Always, we need you here," He replied with a smile that melted me. That look did a lot to wipe away all the doubts I had about my future. I trusted him, and it felt good to do so.</p><p>I looked to Lucien, and his face seemed guarded. There might have been a small flare of anger, but he was trying to keep it under wraps, and that confused me. </p><p>Did it upset him to see us be so affectionate with each other? I figured that must be it—but I could make it up to him soon.</p><p>"I miss my family, but.." I started, trying to be as honest as I could without hurting any feelings.</p><p>Tamlin cut me off, "You're allowed to miss them, and that's not something that needs to be explained. I will fix this for you just as I said I would on day one. Trust me, Feyre,"</p><p>I guess I had done it again, made it seem like I didn't trust him. I wasn't going to explain missing my family, but more so wanting to be with him. Despite this, I didn't continue; I couldn't make things worse when I had just saved him and Lucien from going for each other's throats.</p><p>Lucien seemed to be losing control of his anger, with tiny hairs along his head rising up and standing towards the ceiling. I thought I had avoided disaster, but I might have been wrong.</p><p>Abruptly, Lucien stood and excused himself from the table. I wanted to go to him; I needed to ask what upset him—I wanted to hear every sharp word out of that mouth. But going to him could fan the flames of what was happening already. </p><p>So I stayed in my seat as he walked away.</p><p>The rest of dinner was consumed in a sort of forced companionship that felt unnatural to me. For the first time since I had known him, I felt like Tamlin didn't understand how I was feeling—and I couldn't even have the chance to explain.</p><p>I thought maybe the pressure of fixing all my problems was getting to him—causing him to lash out. That was reasonable, especially when Lucien challenged him and put him on edge so often. After all, Tamlin was just one person, trying to fix it all, maintain his house, and mourn the loss of his entire court. </p><p>There was so much on his shoulders, and he didn't have a choice for much of it. Tamlin was a sunny, enigmatic person—not well suited to the life he had, and I could see how that eroded who he was deep down.</p><p>And while I could see this and understand it in part, I still needed some space. I itched to go to Lucien, but I knew the consequences if I did—so I stayed until he was finished.</p><p>I made my excuses and returned alone to my room. I needed to be by myself and process today. There had been a sudden infusion of hope and a deepening of conflict that jarred me—and I knew that took time to sort through.</p><p><em>McFothergill's Compendium</em> beckoned me from my bedside table.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Life's Short, Eat Dessert First</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Merry Christmas All!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>My footfalls were muffled by the moss beneath me. The only sound I could discern was that of my own breath, coming in hot gasps as I ran through the wooded area.</p><p>Short bare trees wove through the path, swaying towards me, catching in my cloak. I cast a glance back from where I came, and flames warmed my skin. Everything behind me had been ignited in a hellish blaze that threatened to consume. I pumped my bare feet as fast as I could against the soft earth.</p><p>But then a tree branch coiled into my arm, and it didn't feel like a tree should—it was cold and <em>smooth</em>. Then it hissed, actually <em>hissed</em> at me.<br/>I gasped as the other branches blocked my path, trunks falling to the moss and twisting their branches around my legs.</p><p>These were not <em>trees</em> at all. The 'trees' had a singular serpentine tail forked into a dozen venomous snakeheads—all poised to sink into my flesh.</p><p>But the flames were around and over us, heat blasting into my every pore—roasting me alive. I screamed out as a hundred forked tongues flashed out, and then fangs pierced into me.</p><p>The scream died in my chest as I woke to my empty room. I could still taste ash and feel the teeth across my entire body. But I was alone, tangled in my sheets and wondering how I kept having such bizarre dreams.</p><p>My cry must have been internal because there was no knock on the door from the curious Fae I lived with.</p><p><em>I read too much of that damned book before bed</em>, I thought to myself, silently cursing. Because the vile many-headed snake was not a figment of my imagination. Those were <em>Serpex</em>, something I had read about in <em>McFothergill's Compendium</em> last night...something that had followed me into my dreams.</p><p>What had it said? </p><p>
  <em>"The Serpex is commonly known as the 'branched serpent.' It boasts one central tail with three to twenty heads that resemble its branches. It is thought that new heads are grown over time, but it is not confirmed. The Serpex has been known to posture upon its central tail and fans out its heads to appear as a tree to camouflage itself to their prey—an effective method in densely wooded areas," </em>
</p><p>I shuddered again, thinking of all the other Lesser Fae I had spent the night reading about; unfathomable terrors, mixed with glorious beauty and everything in between. I had a couple of questions I wanted to ask Lucien tomorrow about that book, praying he would give some straightforward answers. I twisted in my bed, pulling the blankets forward to protect myself from the chill. It was still dark, and my eyelids protested as I anxiously scanned my room for signs of the ghastly creatures. Convinced I was alone, I let sleep take me. </p><p>There was a knock at the door, and when I opened my eyes—the room was flooded with light. Hours must have passed, but it felt like mere minutes to me. The knock sounded again, louder now.</p><p>"Time to awaken, sweet human," A voice, <em>his voice</em> cooed from behind the door.</p><p>"What is it, Lucien?" I called from my nest of blankets, unwilling to leave the bed. He didn't usually do wake-up calls.</p><p>"Well, it's past noon, and I thought I would check to see if you still lived. Now I must demand you come down and eat something," He finished, opening the door and striding through.</p><p>Past noon? How on earth had I slept that long? Staying up until two may have had something to do with that. </p><p>I rubbed my eyes and inspected the figure at the foot of my bed. His hair was left down, anchored by a delicate gold circlet. He wore dark clothing except for a red cloak, which was pinned across his chest. My brain felt foggy; something was off about Lucien, but what…</p><p><em>His mask</em>. He wasn't wearing a mask, that must mean…</p><p>"Is Tamlin out?"</p><p>"Yes, till after dinner. He didn't want to disturb your rest."</p><p><em>Gods</em>, we were alone. All the things we could do, the time we could have. Lucien had taken off his mask. Had he done that because I said I never wanted to see it on him? Was that for me?</p><p>Then I thought about last night, his volatility at the dinner table, how he provoked Tamlin. I forced myself to remember that this <em>relationship</em> could be the death of us if I kept pursuing it. We needed to leave my bedroom and fast. I wouldn't last much longer in here with him.</p><p>"I'm still mad at you," I stated, slipping from the covers and pushing my feet into silk slippers. I couldn't manage to infuse any bite into the words as I shuffled to my dresser. Lucien watched my every move.</p><p>Feeling that heavy gaze on me, I looked back to him and arched an eyebrow. "I'll meet you down there,"</p><p>He remained silent, but soon I heard the soft click of the door. I loosed a breath and reached for the nearest dress. It was red linen and fit snug along the bodice, with sleeves the hung open and a long straight neckline that showed the tops of my shoulders. I pinned my hair up and splashed cool water on my eyes—hoping to lessen the dark shadows I saw there. I would have to put a cap on the amount of reading tonight.</p><p>I followed my nose to the dining room on the main floor. The smell of hot spice and meat pricked at my eyes as I got closer—reminding me of when Lucien cooked for me a few days ago.</p><p>Finding the source of the aroma, I rounded the corner to the room and looked hungrily at the small table, laden with colourful dishes and pitchers. A chocolate gateau with raspberries lay in its center.</p><p>"I see you've been busy in the kitchens," I said—slightly taken aback, and then I raised my eyes to his.</p><p>My mouth fell open with a little pop.</p><p>
  <em>He was completely and utterly naked.</em>
</p><p>Sitting at the head of the table and facing me, Lucien lounged into the throne-like chair. One of his knees was propped up on the cushion, an arm resting straight across. His bare chest was only covered in those tumbles of auburn hair, and the mask was still off. He had one finger in his mouth, and as our eyes met, he pulled it out—like he had been tasting something.</p><p>So much for trying to resist him. My entire body flushed with desire, then embarrassment. I didn't really know what to do, so I kind of just fell into the chair before me, where a dish was laid out.</p><p>From this angle, only the naked expanse of his chest could be seen, but that still left me speechless.</p><p>"Something wrong?" He mused.</p><p>"Nope,"</p><p>"Does my nakedness affect you?"</p><p>I stayed silent, not sure I could say anything with an ounce of conviction. Other than the fact that I wanted to climb into that chair and….</p><p>"I just wanted to feel more comfortable; clothes can be rather suffocating and unnatural, don't you think?" He continued, clearly amused.</p><p>I poked at the food on my plate, nodding my head absently at his teasing. I corralled a pea onto my fork, but it must have fallen before I brought the utensil to my mouth—because it was empty.</p><p>I looked down and grabbed another, but this one actually vanished in front of me.</p><p>"Looking for this?" He asked, holding the tiny green pearl between his thumb and forefinger.</p><p>"Hey, since when could you do that?" I scowled as he plopped <em>my</em> lunch into his perfect mouth.</p><p>"Since always," He sighed.</p><p>"Well, I'd like to eat," I said stupidly, transfixed by the way his chest moved with each breath.</p><p>"I think you'd rather eat it out of my hands, don't you?"</p><p>My heart paused in my chest, too stunned to continue to beat.</p><p>"<em>Excuse me</em>?"</p><p>"Oh, come on, play with me," He purred, voice dipping down to a sultry octave that did things to the heat between my thighs.</p><p>The last 'game' we had played was 'sharp or wet,' and I closed my eyes and shuttered at that memory. I opened them and met his gaze, pausing only to sweep over the scar around his eye—so rarely seen in its entirety.</p><p>"You are…impossible," I breathed, quickly becoming caught up in memories. A dagger, pressing into my ribcage, a tongue burrowing into my belly-button, the silk sash biting into my cheeks. How was I supposed to say no to that? Why would I want to say no?</p><p>He rose then, and his body was…<em>Gods</em>. It was a study in musculature and grace. His erect member reached up to his stomach as he padded barefoot across the marble.</p><p>"That I can't deny," He replied as he swiped a finger against a frosted chocolate cake, the icing built to a decadent dollop that he examined with a cruel smile. He prowled to my end of the table and presented the finger to my parted lips.</p><p>"Should we start with dessert?"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Naked Lucien at the table was on my Christmas list....just saying.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Chocolate</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Two chapters in one day? must be Christmas.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I didn't say anything, but I stared at the blob of chocolate, fully aware of the naked body that stood behind it. This close, I could smell Lucien's leather and cinnamon scent, and it did nothing to cool the fire within me.</p><p>
  <em>Fuck it.</em>
</p><p>I met his gaze and didn't break it as I leaned forward and sealed my lips on his forefinger, swirling and sucking the dark sweetness from the digit. Lucien actually groaned, lowering his feminine lashes halfway with pleasure.</p><p>"Such a good, sweet human you are," he praised as I lathered the finger with my tongue, encouraged by his satisfaction. Having cleaned him, I slowly pulled back—stopping to bite the end of it carefully. In my peripheral vision, I saw him twitch, and I smirked. I might have been eating out of the palm of his hand, but the power went both ways.</p><p>He knelt down and gripped the arms of my chair, wrenching it askew so he could stand before me. I almost let out a squeak at the movement but managed to keep it in.</p><p>"And what a lovely dress you have on…<em>Love the colour</em>," His eyes ricocheted along the exposed tops of my shoulders—hungry.</p><p>"It's the perfect dress for you to wear…while you take me into that pretty little mouth,"</p><p>I flushed, a distinct feeling of nakedness washing over my covered body. I had very much enjoyed sucking at his finger and tingled with satisfaction at the reaction he had. It felt dirty and forbidden, and I loved how I responded.  But above me, he was as still as a statue—and I began to fear that he wouldn't let me continue. </p><p>"Please," I said, a spike of panic causing the impossible word to fall from my lips. He studied me a moment longer, a thousand emotions flitting across his unmasked face. </p><p>"Show me what you can do," He commanded, and I sighed heavily with relief.</p><p>I pitched forward, bringing my knees to the ground—hearing the soft rustle of my skirts against cool marble. Leaning my forehead against his hip bone, I steadied my breath, overcome with raw need. He was so warm, unbelievably hard and sinfully soft. I examined the dusting of hair that trailed from his navel to his legs, dark but amber when the light reflected off it. He was as perfect as the day we met, but now it all meant so much more.</p><p>My lips trailed down his pelvis to the base of his member, cheek brushing the length of him and causing several short exhales to sound above me. He might have thought I was doing this on purpose, to torture him. But in reality, I just wanted to enjoy the moment—savour and memorize him just like I did when the mask came off, because who knew when we could have this again?</p><p>I continued my path of light kisses up to his tip, focused on keeping my breaths even and long. When I reached the end, I dragged my fingers up the fine hair on his legs and pressed my thumbs into each hip bone, clutching the junction of muscles beneath. Lucien didn't push forward or rush me—but his body felt warmer under me, betraying his escalating arousal.</p><p>Instead of wrapping my lips around him, I kissed an equal path to his other hip bone—half wondering if and when he would stop me. Did he have a limit? What would he agree to right now if I was to ask? I chanced a look up to him, his eyes were closed, and his brows pushed together in a remarkably vulnerable expression.</p><p>I couldn't wait any longer.</p><p>I sank down on him, reaching back as far as I could—suppressing the reaction to cough at the intrusion. Lucien made a choking sound, and his hands threaded through the pieces of my hair as I began to explore him with my tongue. Everything was chocolate, leather and heat as I brought my mouth back and forth on him, my tongue pushing down against each little ridge like it had a mind of its own. My hips started to move in time with my mouth, and I worked my fingers against his hips to encourage him to move as well.</p><p>A little moan came from Lucien, and I drew back to take in his dishevelled state.</p><p>"Look at you," I breathed, letting a morsel of disgust enter my tone. I was well aware that it was I who knelt before him, servicing his member like some sort of <em>harlot</em>, but he was at my mercy. The brave and mightly Lucien, undone by the warmth of my mouth; it was insane. </p><p>He allowed me to make three passes along him before pulling me back by the roots of my hair.</p><p>"That's enough," He all but panted, looking down at the wet mess between his legs and then at my glistening lips.</p><p>He yanked me to a standing position and then used a single arm to swipe away a spot of the table, causing several items to fall and smash on the ground. Before I could respond, I was being lifted onto the top and laid back against the polished wood.</p><p>"You know, the first time I had you on a table, <em>this</em> was all I could think of," And he punctuated the words with a sweep of his hands over the bare flesh of my thigh, pushing up the skirting and revealing my legs.</p><p>A memory of my broken and thin body surfaced. My first night in the court, with Lucien's warm hands skimming clinically over my wounds—and the indecent arousal I felt at the time.</p><p>"You know, you had an identical look on your face then as you do now. It's good; it will make this so much better."</p><p>I shuddered when he reached the wetness between my thighs, giving away how much servicing him had done for me. Lucien's dagger appeared in his hand without warning. <em>That dagger.</em></p><p>It pressed between my breasts, biting into the front of my gown. Was he actually going to…?</p><p>The blade sliced through the stitching and tickled my skin as he drew it down the fabric. Damn, that thing was sharper than I thought. The ruined dress gaped open to reveal my nakedness—and I revelled in the freedom of it.</p><p>I needed this, craved him; there was a piece in me that only filled when we were together—a part of me that crumpled without his presence. How could I have ever thought Tamlin would have been the only one to fix this? Fill it?</p><p>"You're ready, aren't you?" He chuckled, thumbing the wetness again—but keeping away from the most sensitive part. I was past language, so instead, I ripped the split dress from my shoulders and wiggled it free, lounging back on the table and hooking a leg around his hips—drawing him closer. He obliged but stopped to drag himself over me, mixing our dampened flesh together.</p><p>"I want you to remember something,"</p><p>"Anything," I vowed, feeling tighter at each pass of him against my entrance.</p><p>"I want you to remember each time you sit at this dinner table, who's owned you on it, fucked you, who's job it was to give you pleasure." He started to stretch me then, sinking deep. "I want you to remember me moving inside you every time you sit at this fucking table with <em>him</em>," almost feral now, he picked a rough pace that caused my breasts to bounce. I knew, of course, his words mirrored what Tamlin had said to us last night.</p><p>The truth was, I wasn't likely to forget this <em>anytime</em> I was at the table, Tamlin or not. </p><p>"Yes," I hissed, feeling my pleasure build.</p><p>He flipped me then and bent me over the table."Good, now, picture him there while I fuck you because that's almost what happened last night," And with that, he thrust into me, dropping down to grip my wrists and hold them behind my back for leverage. </p><p>That angle, <em>Gods</em>; it hit something deep, and his grip on my arms forced my head up—forced it to stare at the head of the table where Tamlin's seat was. A feeling of shame mingled with deep pleasure, amplifying each other in a way that terrified me. Thinking of Tamlin made me feel soft and vulnerable; there was pain there—but gods, the pleasure. I realized I was crying then, but it was too late to do anything to stop what would happen. </p><p> I felt the heat in my eyes as I was bounced back repeatedly into him, each thrust somehow travelling deeper than the last. It felt like the room was on fire, and through my half-closed eyelids, I could almost see the flames licking up the columns of the room. </p><p>The ascent was all-consuming, causing me to writhe into his thrusts; much like the flames, it didn't care how my mind felt, and it raced me towards a climax that shook my mind, body, and soul. I cried out, begging for it to end and never end at the same time. </p><p>Lucien filled me with warmth, burrowing deep and grinding revenge into my hip bones. Finally, the grip on my arms loosened, and I was brought against his chest.</p><p>For a moment, we just breathed together—synchronized and whole—a pair of complicated and flawed beings who only needed to be themselves in this moment. </p><p>After a while, Lucien sat back in my chair and brought me across his lap. My hands moved to his face—tracing the now-familiar scar lines. I took him into my palms and kissed him, letting my salty tears press into his tanned skin. I let myself float into the embrace, slowly binding my lips to his. My heart sang as we moved together, devoid of sexual hunger—but filled with another kind. And for all we had done together, kisses felt rare.</p><p>Abruptly, he broke off and turned his head away, leaving me cold at the lack of contact. He took in a deep breath, and I waited, guessing I wouldn't like what was coming next. </p><p> "If he asks you to stay here, you have to promise me you will say no. This may seem like a paradise, but it is not,"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Truthfully, I wrote chapters 28 and 29 as one, but they got too long so I split it up.<br/>Also, I never find BJ's super duper sexy, so I tried to get creative with this. Please tell me if it worked for ya</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Inside</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"If he asks you to stay here, you have to promise me you will say no. This may seem like a paradise, but it is not,"</p><p>"Um," I started, fighting back a bitter feeling of betrayal.</p><p>
  <em>Why would he say that?</em>
</p><p><em>Because he doesn't want you</em>, a small voice in my head answered. </p><p>I took in a shaky breath, striving to ignore the twinge of pain in my chest. All I had been trying to do since I got here was leave, so why would he say it <em>like that</em>.</p><p>"Can you unpack that for me?"</p><p>"Just don't agree to any sort of deals, he may have his <em>reasons</em>, but you shouldn't tether yourself here. You don't belong in this place," He replied with a flat tone that twisted a little thorn into my chest. </p><p>"Well, I'm practically stuck here already, so…" I trailed off, trying to keep the warble of pain from my voice. </p><p>"It's not the same, but that's enough of that; you should eat something," He finished, spooning some stew and offering it to my lips. My mind churned as he continued to bring different dishes to my mouth. We were silent, but within me, a thousand thoughts came and went.</p><p>I tried to summarize his words. <em>This place was not paradise; I should not agree to stay here if Tamlin asked; I didn't belong here. </em></p><p>But wasn't that common knowledge? I knew all the nasty beasts that roamed the woods, I was the one who had her arms bleed each day, I was the one isolated from her family. But Lucien had still felt the need to remind me. </p><p>Was I missing something? I felt there was something he wasn't saying because how could I ever forget my family existed just because a <em>man</em> entered my life. Maybe he was saying this because of how I acted the other day when Tamlin left, impulsively declaring I would delay efforts to return home in exchange for his safety. But keeping an eye out for Tamlin did not make me <em>forget. </em></p><p>Anger kindled inside of me; how dare Lucien remind me I didn't belong here, remind me of something I couldn't change? I thought maybe he was angry with me, that the jealousy I saw on full display a few minutes ago had conceived this obscure piece of advice. </p><p>Clearly, Lucien was unhappy about my feelings for Tamlin, but then why bother with cryptic messages and promises? Why wouldn't Lucien just come out and say he didn't want me to be with the other male? Truthfully, I didn't know if I would follow through on that request, but it didn't mean I was not open to discussing it or discussing how he felt. </p><p>What was Lucien hiding from me? </p><p><em>Maybe he's afraid of getting hurt</em>, I reasoned with myself. </p><p>But then how did that translate into making me promise to 'never stay here,' and by default, never stay with him?</p><p><em>What if this is his way out?</em> Finally, something made sense. He could have never expected me to stay this long, and having been alone for so many years, he must have seen me as an opportunity. I was something to play with, to pass the time until they could be freed. They shared a prison; why not me? But now, when it looked like I was willing to stay, he saw the flaws in his plan; he saw the destruction our relationship could cause when it was only supposed to be temporary. </p><p>I felt unwanted, confused, and tired. Why had he chosen that moment to gift me with such a bullshit request? I had been lost in his embrace, tangling into the lips that I craved. And what had he done? Pulled back to shatter the intimacy between us. Was this his way of keeping distance, a natural step in his short expectation of our relationship?</p><p>I shifted in his lap, our naked skin sticking together uncomfortably. I hated being kept at a distance. It reminded me of Isaac, so quick to take me to the hay—but even quicker to leave without a word. I never knew where I stood with him, and I hated it. Lucien was a whole other level of uncertainty and shifting ground; sometimes I thought he loathed me, sometimes found me useful, and other times I could even believe he loved me.</p><p>I felt vulnerable, and in a way, it made me miss Tamlin. With him, there was pure, albeit blind dedication. He was loyal and honest with his feelings. He wore vulnerability like a badge of honour and made me feel protected when I felt the weakest. I didn't think these were qualities Lucien could ever possess, and I couldn't hate him for it, but I couldn't deny the truth either.</p><p>Lucien seemed displeased with me, regressing into the clinical behaviour I knew so well. He fed me like a child who couldn't care for themselves, and I couldn't bear it after making that comparison.</p><p>"I'm not hungry anymore," I said, pushing out of his lap. I stood before him, exposed and wishing for something to drape over my body. I felt foolish, but how else was I to respond? With smiles and another kiss. I knew I was spiralling, and I needed space. </p><p>He had been trying to send me a message, and I got it. Lucien didn't try to stop me as I backed away from him. </p><p><em>You don't belong in this place,</em> his words echoed in my head.</p><p>"You know where my chambers are if you want to talk," He said to my back.</p><p>I found a gown to wear and nestled into my mattress—half wishing I had never left it. I laughed a little at myself, thinking of spending a whole day in bed; the old Feyre would disapprove. I picked up <em>McFothergill's Compendium</em> from my bedside table, deciding I wouldn't go to Lucien for healing today but would at least practice my reading.</p><p>Yesterday I had paused on woodland creatures and quickly picked up where I had left off. I methodically took in every image and piece of text, often re-reading it to understand the wording. But then I came across something that puzzled me. </p><p>A page had been removed.</p><p>I flipped back and forth around the anomaly and fingered the binding, feeling the rough edge of torn paper. The page after it was blank, but the page before depicted half a flaming red wing. The main body was not pictured, and no text accompanied the illustration. Why had the book been altered? I thought of the suspicious way I had come to possess it and knitted my brows in confusion. </p><p>
  <em>What are you trying to hide from me, you mysterious thing?</em>
</p><p>I checked the index, till I found the number on the page. The missing entry made my blood run a little cooler.</p><p>
  <em>"The Demonic, page 60."</em>
</p><p>Demons and angel worship were rampant in the human realm. Everything was attributed to them and the Fae, but they ran in different circles. Christianity and belief in the Fae were opposing in every human town, and wars had been fought for less. Angels were the benefactors of all that was good and wholesome, and demons the opposite. They were tricksters and thieves, leading mortals astray as the Fae did. But demons mentioned in Prythian, that was new, and why was it being hidden from me?</p><p>I thought of the half-page that was still present and the fiery wing that was my only clue. Did those black wings in the study belong to a demon?</p><p>That would explain why they disturbed me so much and why someone would want to take them as a battle prize. But I never felt evil energy from those, and they were not red—all they ever made me feel was sad and uncomfortable. Given the number of winged creatures in this compendium—it was unlikely they were demon wings.</p><p>It was something I wanted to talk to Lucien about but couldn't summon the courage to do. Hours had come and gone, and I still struggled with what he had said to me. I felt myself slip back into the turmoil of this afternoon, considering what he had said and my reaction.</p><p>I had always felt like I didn't fit with my family. While they might have needed me for survival, I wasn't like them. I didn't really feel like I belonged there, and I never felt like I belonged in Prythian—<em>except when I was with them</em>. Those moments when we were together, when Tamlin and I laughed till it hurt, or I read with Lucien—a part of me had found a home. Now that was being ripped away, and it hurt that foolish Feyre needed a reminder of <em>what</em> she was and <em>where</em> she didn't belong. </p><p>I slept some more, welcoming darkness into my mind to push away the thoughts. </p><p>Tamlin arrived home before sunset, and when he came to me, I told him wine had sickened my stomach. He sent up pitchers of fresh water and drew a bath but obeyed my request to be left alone.</p><p>Long after the house grew quiet and the sun had set, I crept out into the hallway. A dull stinging came from the bandages on my arms as I crept through the shadowy halls, occasionally pausing to listen for movement.</p><p>I stood in front of the door for a long time, staring at the knob. My chest felt tight and painful—like I was standing at the edge of a cliff. I had thought about so many things today that I had confused myself—nothing really made sense anymore, all of my actions seemed stupid. I needed clarity, and right now, this seemed like the best option.</p><p>I held my breath and reached for the door.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy New Year! I wonder where Feyre's going?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. He's the Devil in Disguise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>We go a little outside SJM's world in this chapter, but it's how I always saw Lucien.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The door to Lucien's room was unlocked and made no sound as it swung open. I was instantly enveloped in the familiar smells of his chambers.</p>
<p>"What you said today hurt me," I blurted out before I could lose my nerve.</p>
<p>Ironically, I told myself that this is what Tamlin would do—this is what an adult would do in this situation. He would be honest, and I could be honest. I could communicate with Lucien how I felt. I trusted that it would make me feel <em>better</em>.</p>
<p>"And I found this book and wanted to talk to you about it," I tossed <em>McFothergill's Compendium</em> onto his bed, where he lay wrapped in a robe. Lucien looked me over but said nothing, so I waited. The book was my back up plan.</p>
<p>After a moment, his fingers crawled up the bed and wrapped around the faded cover. He traced the title, eyes dipping slowly over the bright silver text.</p>
<p>"I never want to hurt you," He whispered, so soft I almost missed it. His eyes remained on the cover of the book, which he casually flipped open.</p>
<p>Inside me, something twisted—hopeful but wary.</p>
<p><em>Then why did you say I didn't belong here? Why did you basically tell me to leave?</em> I thought but nodded instead. Now was a time to resolve and not to make accusations. </p>
<p>"Where did you find this book?"</p>
<p>"I think it found me," I replied, disappointed he had changed the subject.</p>
<p>"And you want me to help you read it?"</p>
<p>"No, I've been reading it already," I began.</p>
<p>"You've come a long way in your literacy…its impressive,"</p>
<p>I flushed at the compliment. It wasn't a common occurrence in our lessons. Lucien was much more inclined to praise my more <em>physical</em> characteristics.</p>
<p>"Well…thank-you, but I wanted to ask what you knew about the Suriel? The book calls it a harbinger of truth, and I was confused," I confessed, wringing my hands together and tracing the rug pattern below with my foot. I was confused about the book and him—but he obviously felt more comfortable discussing this than our feelings.</p>
<p>"Sit with me, and I will answer your questions," He replied, rubbing a spot beside him. His words didn't drip with sexual tension, but he didn't really have to try around me. Upset as I might be, being in his bed always had an effect. I wanted to crawl into his arms and surround myself in the heat of his body—but a little thorn still poked at my side from this afternoon. So I hesitated, staring at the bedspread.</p>
<p>
  <em>You don't belong here.</em>
</p>
<p>"The Suriel is a creature of truth," He began, observing my reaction. I crawled forward on the bed, keeping some distance between us.</p>
<p>"Does that mean it can't lie?"</p>
<p>"Yes,"</p>
<p>"And how do you know that?"</p>
<p>Lucien smiled, and it lifted his pointed ears. I knew that look.</p>
<p>"Ah…you won't answer that, will you?" I guessed, sharing a smile of my own, like getting blood from a stone with this one.  </p>
<p>"You know me too well, my sweet," Lucien dragged his teeth across his lower lip, leaning into the palm of his hand. But I would not be distracted so easily. If anything, his attempt at seduction only reminded me of what he said earlier, and my pain flared slightly-demanding attention. </p>
<p>"Why don't you want me here, Lucien? Why did you say all of that today?"</p>
<p>"Why are you asking me about that?" He returned, fingers moving towards my own. His eyes were soft, and the corners of his lips turned down slightly.</p>
<p>"That's not an answer," I pulled back my hand and looked down at <em>McFothergill's Compendium</em>. He didn't speak, and the silence stretched between us.</p>
<p>"There's a page missing in this book," My eyes followed with his along the pages. We both lounged on our sides, hands propped under our heads.</p>
<p>"Oh…is there?" The smile returned, unrestrained. <em>Did he already know that?</em></p>
<p>"Yeah, about demons. It seems someone has removed it by force. What can you tell me about that?"</p>
<p>"Maybe someone wanted to explain that section to you himself," Lucien mused, and before him, a page appeared—suspended between us. My eyes widened so much that I wondered if they could still be contained within my skull. Lucien's silken voice read off the torn page, surrounding us both like a caress.</p>
<p>"<em>The demonic inhabit human and Fae realms. They revel in trickery and have a taste for sinful endeavours. They have many forms, best known for those with large crimson wings. Their powers rival that of Higher Fae; namely in healing, fire, and telepathic manipulations.</em>" He paused then, allowing a devastating pair of red wings to unfurl from his back, blocking the light from the candles above and stopping my heart. "….They forgot to add we make <em>exceptional</em> lovers and quite enjoy corrupting sweet human souls too," He finished with a lick over his lips. His eye flared red, and through my shock, I saw him for what he really was.</p>
<p>How many times had I felt such fear around him, sensed something different and dark? How many times had I felt Lucien did not fit in with the land around him, his flaming hair and that unnatural malice that entered him when he hunted or fucked. All the powers that Lucien displayed were so different than Tamlin's, and stupid me never paid enough attention to suspect him as something other than High Fae. </p>
<p>
  <em>Am I safe?</em>
</p>
<p>"This is you," I said with a surprisingly stable voice. </p>
<p>"Half of me at least," He replied, wings fluffing and folding behind his back. "My mother was High Fae,"</p>
<p>"Does he know?" I didn't need to speak his name for Lucien to know who I was referring to.</p>
<p>"Only you,"</p>
<p>And while he said one thing, I knew he was saying something very different in my soul. His words were like a hot arrow into my chest, warm and impossible to ignore. They melted away the pain from today and the fear I had over his reveal. I saw the depth there; I saw the promise and the love he held for me. </p>
<p>"Why tell me this, Lucien?" I asked, overwhelmed, but unafraid. I thought I knew the answer, but I wanted to hear him say it. </p>
<p>"Because I wanted you to know. This was a truth I could share. You needed to know the real me," But as he spoke, a profound sadness crept across his features. I knitted my brows and reached for him, feeling the warm glow of the moment diminish. I wanted to remove the copper mask to better read his expression, but he caught my arm. He traced along the bandage there, and when I blinked, it had been removed. A familiar heat spread over my arms, and I felt Lucien's unique brand of magic heal the wounds I had been too stubborn to have him tend to earlier.</p>
<p>How could a demon, or <em>half-demon</em> be so <em>good</em>? My family and many others would consider him a monster, but, in my heart, I knew I loved him. He was knowledge and power, loved to challenge but also repair. And I loved him, I loved it all, good and bad.</p>
<p>"You should leave before he suspects something," Lucien murmured, pressing his thumb along my lips.</p>
<p>He tucked the missing page into the book and pushed it to me. I nodded and rose from the bed—feeling balanced for the first time all day.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>My sleep was sound and dreamless, a welcome reprieve. I sprung up from my bed and threw open the tallest windows in my room—embracing the morning chill. I thought it might be a good day to spend outside, collect my thoughts and re-strategize.<p>When I entered the atrium, only Tamlin sat at the head of the table, and his gaze skewered me. Something was very wrong, and my stomach dropped as a sickly sweat broke out along my spine.</p>
<p>"I went to check on you last night," Tamlin began, fingers steepling in front of himself.</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh no.</em>
</p>
<p>A single beat echoed around us, like the sound of a large drum. </p>
<p>"Do you want to tell me where you were?"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Forbidden</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A little late! I'm working on a *special project* that's taken some of my Devil's Dance time this week. It's a one-shot called Faerie Wine, so check it out if you like this fic!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Do you want to tell me where you were?" Tamlin asked, voice a spike of ice straight to my stomach.</p><p>"I couldn't sleep," I started, knowing that was the truth. Of all the times to be caught with Lucien, the night where nothing inherently sexual had happened was incredibly ironic to me. But I saw past Tamlin's steely exterior and felt the hurt and betrayal behind it. Knowing I had caused him to feel that way ripped me apart, but I could fix this. I couldn't cause him any more pain; it wasn't fair.</p><p>"Lucien has been teaching me how to read, and when I couldn't sleep, I thought he could help me with the book I was reading." The lie burned through my teeth.</p><p>"Reading?" Tamlin repeated like he didn't understand the word. "Why?"</p><p>"Well, I've found that I kind of…like reading,"</p><p>Tamlin's fingers remained pressed together, and a muscle spasmed above his brow.</p><p>"And the two of you were up in the middle of the night, <em>reading together</em>."<br/>
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak the words aloud.</p><p>"You realize how completely inappropriate and unacceptable this is, right?" His voice rose, and I knew it was a good time for me to remain quiet—but his words irked me.</p><p>"I see now that it was too late for that kind of visit. I didn't mean to upset you. Would it be better if the lessons were kept to the daylight hours?" I meant to infuse my tone with diplomacy—but I couldn't keep out the defensive edge.</p><p>"It would be better…if these <em>lessons</em> stopped altogether. Since you can't make appropriate decisions on your own—I forbid any further reading."</p><p>
  <em>Forbid?</em>
</p><p>I glared at Tamlin and exhaled a short breath. My jaw worked over the words I wanted to spit at him, but I held them in—knowing that I was the one who was lying.</p><p>"Say it!" Tamlin hissed, hands breaking their careful formation and slamming onto the table.</p><p>
  <em>Well, he asked for it. </em>
</p><p>"Look, I care about you, Tamlin, but forbidding me to <em>read</em> is out of this world ridiculous. You are hundreds of years old, yet you think you can just decree how I spend my time? That is <em>not</em> how this works." But I wasn't done yet. "Give me three good reasons why he can't bloody teach me to read?"</p><p>Tamlin was silent. His hands plastered to the table, a discarded piece of toast resting by his twitching fingers.</p><p>I arched an eyebrow, and he looked away.</p><p>"That's what I thought, speak to me when you've had a chance to use that big Fae brain of yours. I'm open to talking about it, but not like this," I spun around to leave, rhythmically squeezing my nails into my palms.</p><p>"You will abide by my rules, or you will leave," he called at my retreating form. My step faltered, but only for a second. I felt an angry tear make its way down my cheek, and I cursed my eyes for caring what Tamlin said.</p><p>I stormed out of the room, feeding the fire within me—praying it would hold back the pain. I careened towards a suit of armour and ripped the sword from its lifeless grip. Like a force of nature, I felt powerful, and I welcomed anything that sought to challenge me. If he thought he could control me, he had another thing coming. I would show him just how wrong he was.</p><p>I wrenched open my bedroom door, refusing to flinch when it smashed against the wall. I tossed the sword on my bed. My dress hit the floors in a rush, quickly replaced by supple leather pants and a fitted top. I had to dig through layers of frilly gowns before I found a satchel in the back of my wardrobe—but it was decently sized and could be fastened over my shoulder. I scanned my room's contents and decided that only the compendium and my red cloak were worth keeping. I wouldn't need embroidered gowns where I was headed.</p><p>Cloak fastened at my collar and sword in hand, I descended to the kitchens, on my own little warpath. Nothing and no one stopped me as I shovelled preserved meats and bags of grains into my satchel, methodically packing the sack with supplies. When I found a pen and some parchment in the utensils drawer, I paused.</p><p>Lucien had basically told me that I didn't belong despite our feelings for each other. I couldn't imagine him being pleased I was leaving, but part of me wondered if this is what he had wanted all along. I couldn't say for sure if he was just trying to protect himself or me, but I wasn't convinced he would feel totally betrayed if I left.</p><p>I scrawled out a quick note, impulsively suggesting a plan I wasn't sure I could follow through on.</p><p>
  <em>"You were right. I'm going home. Meet me at the wall in one week." </em>
</p><p>I left the note in the kitchen, feeling like a hopeless fool. My message implied I could manage to survive that long and somehow find him again at the wall. All at once, it hit me, I was leaving. This place I had called home for months would soon be a memory.  Shuddering breath emptied from my lungs at the thought of Elaine and Nesta. I belong with them; despite my experiences here in Prythian with the Fae, Lucien was right. But thinking of him caused me to send a quick prayer to the Gods I wouldn't see him on my way out.</p><p>Next stop: transportation.</p><p>The fresh air hit me like a cleansing balm. The burning in my cheeks was washed in a cool breeze, and I took a steadying breath. I could do this, and I would be better off for it. Now I could really take a step back and look at my situation—it was seriously messed up. Being emotionally split between two people who were as different as night and day and the constant danger of Prythian was an impossible combination. I loved both of them, but I hated being trapped in that place.  Everything that held me back before felt like a mere trifle compared to the immortal war of testosterone in that house. I was lucky to be leaving, I told myself. </p><p>The stables were quiet, and I saddled Aleron without hesitation. The stallion felt invincible and ready for whatever I would need him for, which bolstered my confidence in this mission. I might be small, but I had a deadly aim, and I was fast. Armed with the new knowledge of Lesser Fae and their vulnerabilities, I kicked out of the stables, only looking back once. No one watched me leave, and that was just as well. The last thing I had taken from the stables was the charcoal bow and quiver I had hunted with before, and the weight of it grounded me. </p><p>The southern forest was a streak of green on the horizon, and it greeted me like an old friend as Aleron jumped the gilded gates. I could remember the first time I walked through them, pausing to consider who lived in the ostentatious house beyond. An uncomfortable feeling welled in my chest, and I stuffed the memory into a dark corner of my mind.</p><p>Hooves beat mercilessly into the cobbles as Aleron pushed us towards the wall. I let out a sound of triumph, feeling untouchable atop the powerful animal. Just this morning, I had thought it was a perfect day to spend outdoors, and here I was!</p><p>I wish I could say that my excitement overshadowed the regrets I had about what I was doing—but it lived like a bad taste in my mouth. Tamlin's blatant betrayal over discovering Lucien and I had been hiding something from him. I had told him I was open to talking about it, and then I had run away. <em>"But he told you to obey him or get out of his house,"</em> I reminded myself. How could I get past that? How was that a healthy relationship? </p><p>My thoughts cut out as darkness fluttered around me, like something momentarily blocked out the light of the sun. I tensed in the saddle and slowed Aleron—unable to hear anything over the clatter of hooves. My eyes analyzed every inch of forest around me, honing in on any movement as my hand reached instinctually for the bow at my back. </p><p>What could be so big that it blocks out the sun?</p><p>I don't breathe. Aleron shuffles beneath me, and I can sense the great beast's anxiety as his ears flick back. Something is out there, I can feel it, and so can the horse, but the question is, what do I do? </p><p>If I urge Aleron into a gallop, I won't be able to hear the approach of anything, but we might stand a chance of outrunning whatever it is, or I can try to shoot it down. If we continue to linger here, it will eventually attack—and I have no idea if that's a battle I can win. I don't even know what's out there.</p><p>
  <em>Maybe I should have put a bit more thought into my trip home. Too late...</em>
</p><p>I kicked my feet into Aleron and swivelled in the saddle, prepared for the attack. After all, the theme of the day was running.</p><p>The forest blends into a violent blur of emerald as we pick up speed and volley down the path. I force myself to breathe and methodically scan our surroundings, bow drawn, and ready to fire. I think I spot a smudge of black, travelling parallel to us in the tree cover—so I let loose an arrow and quickly knock another. I can't hear anything other than hooves on stone, but I can no longer see anything but trees where my attacker once was. </p><p>Could I have been so lucky to have hit it? I didn't want to stick around and find out. </p><p>"Hyah!" I cried, urging the last vestiges of speed from my mount. </p><p>But up ahead, darkness gathered on a tree branch—dripping and smokey. It dropped down and rose to inhuman heights—a tattered, billowing robe ensconcing a skeletal face that turned the blood in my veins to ice. </p><p>
  <em>The Suriel</em>
</p><p>Aleron reared to the right, and I was launched helplessly through the air.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Finally! Let's face those fears head-on.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0033"><h2>33. Knowledge is Power</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Whew, sorry I missed a week there, folks. I had to re-write a lot of this chapter because I just wasn't diggin' it. That being said, I'm happy with how it turned out!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I was catapulted towards the earth with a blow that shook my bones. Sharp pain lanced out across my ankle, and my teeth bit into my cheek, drawing blood. Hooves clattered on stone, and with an ungodly sound, I looked up to see Aleron charging towards the smoky form of the Suriel.</p><p>The Lesser Fae made no move to avoid the path of the stallion, and before I could blink—the Suriel reached out a skeletal hand. On contact, Aleron became a heap of bones that exploded past the Suriel. With a shake of its wrist, its hand re-joined the dark robes—like Aleron was nothing more than an inconvenience.</p><p>
  <em>Note to self: Don't ever touch it.</em>
</p><p>I scampered back, hands connecting with the broadsword I had stolen from the manor. But my joy was quickly scattered by the extraordinary pain in my ankle that told me it was no longer functional enough to run on.</p><p>"I'm not alone! Tamlin will be here any second!" I scream out, but there is no reaction from the Suriel—just a blank milky stare. </p><p>
  <em>Don't freak out, don't freak out, don't freak out.</em>
</p><p>Okay, so my horse is a pile of bones, my bow is missing, I can't run, I have a weapon, but I don't know how to kill a Suriel.</p><p>
  <em>Think, Feyre. </em>
</p><p> My mind flashes back to last winter when I had fallen from my tree stand and cut up my knee. A cougar had been near, and I had stood and crashed around until I could reach my fallen bow. The key was not to show any weakness.</p><p>Okay, so a cougar and the Suriel are obviously worlds apart, but my options are limited.</p><p>I engage all my muscles and drag myself up, ignoring the pain in my ankle—which felt way too <em>crunchy</em> to be a simple sprain. Brandishing the stolen weapon, I scowl at the Suriel—chills snaking along my spine at the sight of its lifeless eyes.</p><p>You could have called the depiction of the Suriel in <em>McFothergill's Compendium</em>—a kid-friendly version. The book certainly didn't mention the musty smell of decay that suffocated me—or the horrific pieces of rotten flesh that still clung to parts of its face. It looked like a giant left to rot in its grave for a month but then brought back to life before it could be fully digested by the earth. Ghostly hunks of skin and cobwebs of hair clung to its boney frame. Even the relentless emerald foliage of the spring court paled juxtaposed with what must be the embodiment of death. Milky eyes stared down at me, and I couldn't help swallowing the dry lump in my throat—an action those foggy eyes instantly latched on to. I could feel my odds of beating it in hand-to-hand combat plummeting.</p><p>"It was rude of you to shoot at me," The Suriel stated, its voice like the rattling of a wind-chime made of bones.  </p><p>So...it talks. Good to know. Sentient <em>and</em> deadly.</p><p><em>But I knew that already</em>. What did the book say? "<em>The Suriel is a harbinger of truth.</em>" But it's looking at me like it's expecting a response, so I say the first thing that comes to my mind.</p><p>"It was rude of you to kill my horse,"</p><p>"Yes, but that's not why I am here, Feyre Archeron," the Suriel responds, inky robes moving gently in the breeze.</p><p>
  <em>It knows my name.  </em>
</p><p>"You don't belong here,"</p><p>I flinch. Hearing Lucien's words come from this creature's mouth set my mind into a tailspin. How long had I analyzed that same sentence? The circle my mind had done rationalizing his warning and the distance it seemed to create between us. The fact that I didn't belong was woefully obvious, beautifully illustrated by my current predicament—balancing on a broken ankle, psyching myself up to face some sort of undead Faerie. </p><p>I'm about to die, and this thing has the nerve to tell me I don't belong?</p><p>Speaking of said Fae, why hasn't it killed me already? It doesn't seem intimidated, but when it could have and should have closed the ground between us—it hasn't budged an inch. Is it distracted by our conversation?</p><p>"Obviously, I don't belong here. How do you know my name?"</p><p>"I know a great many things; the future, the past. The could be and should be," it responded, voice dropping melodically into its words like this was some sort of vague catchphrase. I was now confident that the Fae wasn't the least bit threatened by me, but everything else was a tangle of confusion.</p><p>"I need to tell you a story before death comes,"  </p><p>So, this is it. It has some sort of sick obligation to fulfill its role as the '<em>Harbinger of Truth</em>' before vaporizing my flesh and letting my bones litter the path for Tamlin or Lucien to find.</p><p><em>Great</em>. Like that won't make things more awkward between them.</p><p>The Suriel makes a quick motion with its fingers, spanning them out, and I take a pained step back, raising the heavy blade higher.</p><p>"Worry not between one or the other; you will have them both. Now, will you have my story—I can not wait much longer" The Suriel hisses. </p><p>Is it annoyed with me? <em>Well, I'm sorry I can't keep the schedule with my own death, buddy.</em> Have them both? Is it talking about Tamlin and Lucien? Did it know I was thinking about them?</p><p>The mass of black robes moves a single step towards where I stand, and my heart stutters in my chest.</p><p>"I guess. What is the story?" I hastily reply, anxious to keep up the distraction—not to mention the distance between us. </p><p>"It's your story."</p><p>Another icy chill slips down my back, digging its glacial claws into my ribs. This must be a part of the Fae's ritual, for its victims to hear their sins before their lives are funnelled away into the rotten maw of this monster. The finality of the situation is lost on my body, though, all racing pulse and beads of sweat, preparing for a fight. My eyes dart over the path, searching for my bow or any other weapons—finding nothing. I grip the sword a little tighter.</p><p>"The story of Feyre, who tastes the forbidden fruit, who <em>knows</em>, who feeds the flames of change, a future christened in destruction, and death," As the Suriel speaks, its form seems to quiver and go in-and-out of focus as its words swirl around me. I can't even process the bulk of what's said, but the word <em>death</em> clings to my adrenaline-soaked mind.</p><p>
  <em>Storytime is over Feyre. Get ready. </em>
</p><p>"Is that a threat?" I ask, pulling every last inch of false bravado I can muster—the sword glints in front of me, seemingly ten pounds lighter than it was a minute ago. The Suriel doesn't respond. It seems the time for words has come and gone—and I can guess what happens next. I test the weight on my ankle and bounce my heel—it's manageable. </p><p>The Suriel reaches its rotting hands into the center of its chest and then stretches them out. <em>This is it, do or die Feyre.</em> Extending its deadly digits towards my pitiful stance, I stiffen and prepare to swing against them with all my might.</p><p>But then I notice an object cradled between the grisly bones of its palms. Arms elongate unnaturally toward me and present a single red rose.</p><p>"Careful, don't cut yourself," The Suriel whispers, its jaw slowly starting to unhinge in what will be the last sight I see before I leave this earth. I am consumed with the urge to retch as the putrid scent intensifies—pouring from the darkness of the Suriel's throat.   </p><p>I think adrenaline does peculiar things to your ability to hear because I don't notice the horned bear that lunges into the Suriel until the snarling mass of fur stands between the Lesser Fae and me. It takes me even longer to realize that this is not another threat, but in fact, my salvation.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>All the tea the Suriel had to spill! You know I had to make it a little ambiguous, though. </p><p>They're not written yet, but I estimate about 7 chapters till the end of Devil's Dance! I hope I can stick better to my weekly post schedule, but I want the ending to be perfect, so no promises. Thanks for reading, commenting, and leaving kudos!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0034"><h2>34. The Fall from Truth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There's one moment where I'm clinging to a sword, strengthened by desperation. The next is washed with confusion, watching the beast collide with a floating mass of robes. Recognition, surprise, relief; I can practically taste my emotions as they move across my tongue and in my blood.</p><p>Tamlin's bestial form is not something you can ever forget, but somehow, I've managed to overlook the sheer size of him. The seven feet of bunched muscle combines elements of every predator known to man. He roars and charges into the Suriel. They trample over the rose the Suriel gifted me, swiping out at each other with deadly accuracy.</p><p>Tamlin moves like a cat, slinking away from the Suriel's outstretched hands—avoiding the fate of my horse, Aleron. He circles the towering form corralling the hissing monster against a stony alcove. So far, Tamlin hasn't sustained any blows from the Suriel, but I can tell it won't go down without a fight. Not much seems substantial about the Lesser Fae, and black fabric shreds mark their path along the cobbles. To my horror, I realize that Tamlin is guessing at how to kill the Fae—clawing at its midsection, pawing into the chest, gouging out an eye. While he's succeeded in putting distance between the Fae and me, Nothing seems to have slowed it down.</p><p>A whimper rings out from Tamlin, and I startle back. For his part, Tamlin doesn't telegraph any injuries with his movement—but soon, I catch a glimpse of the wound. His front paw is no longer protected with a layer of skin. He had been degloved, and I feel sick when the exposed muscles and tendons flex under the strain of his body. My eyes shoot to the Suriel, who is stuffing the rest of Tamlin's paw into its unhinged mouth.</p><p>I'll never forget the look in its milky eyes as it <em>consumed</em> a part of Tamlin, its boney head shaking with savage delight.</p><p>I'm not sure either of us will make it out of this forest. Now that it has a taste of High Fae, will it double-down its efforts to subdue the pest buzzing around it?</p><p>An echoing boom sounds around us, like a large drum or clap of thunder. I look around but find the sky its usual cerulean hue—not a thunder cloud in sight.</p><p>With a ten-foot leap, Tamlin brings his yellow jaws down on the neck of the Suriel. The ground shudders as they fall, and with a jerk of his snout—Tamlin frees the Suriel's head from its body. It rolls towards me, the empty vault of its cranium clunking on the cobbles.</p><p>
  <em>Gods, is it over?</em>
</p><p>There's a heap of black robes where the nine-foot-tall Lesser Fae used to be, and they don't stir. Tamlin sniffs around and then turns towards me. The sword I held clatters to the ground, and I fall to my knees—knowing it's done.</p><p>As Tamlin closes the distance between us, his body shifts into that of a man. To my complete horror, his right hand is a bloody red display of bare muscle and bone. But he doesn't even look at it, ignores it completely—his eyes locked onto mine. The intensity there frightens me, the green in his eyes pulses into my soul and the gems in his mask echo the same energy. Sidestepping the severed head of the Suriel, Tamlin falls to the ground in front of me and wraps his bloody hands around my shoulders, holding us impossibly tight.</p><p>He releases a shuddering breath, and in the single action, I glimpse how afraid he had been. How terrifying it was, finding me moments from death by the one thing he promised would never harm me.</p><p>"Tamlin, I…"</p><p>"What were you thinking, Feyre? Do you have any idea what else could have found you out here?"</p><p>"… I'm so sorry, Tamlin. I was being stupid—running away. I didn't think at all,"</p><p>"I mean, if <em>Hybern</em> had found you? I don't think I would be able to…" Tamlin began, but then let out another shuddering breath and gripped me tighter.</p><p>"Wait, <em>who is Hybern</em>?" He said the word like it was a person, not a thing or creature that lurked in the woods. I had spent months here, but Tamlin had never mentioned another person or High Fae in the woods. He and Lucien were alone here; I would have remembered them talking about this Hybern. </p><p>Around me, Tamlin's body tightens, and he sucks in a deep breath.</p><p>"Nothing, no one. A reluctant ally that helps keep my borders safe from those that wish harm to the land." Tamlin says, drawing me back and combing through my hair with his normal hand.</p><p>I feel my eyebrows draw together, bunched high on my forehead in thought. <em>An ally?</em> One that neither of them mentioned to me? It smelt like a secret that had been hidden from me, and maybe it was leftover adrenaline from the fight—but I was taken back to the first time I had met Tamlin and the suspicion I had felt, being in the clutches of the Fae.</p><p>"We need to go back Feyre, I can't protect us in the event of an attack," Tamlin says as he lifts us to standing. "That is, if you still want to go back," He adds, tucking another lock of hair behind my ear.</p><p>There's a vulnerability in his eyes that shatters my already frazzled mind.  He must be thinking I've been pushed too far, too out of my comfort zone by the attack. But despite the Suriel's words, I <em>do</em> belong here. I belong in the Spring Court with Tamlin and Lucien, and I'm strong enough to face its horrors.</p><p>"Of course I want to go back," But as the words leave my mouth and I take a step forward, pain crashes me down to the ground. It seems my adrenaline rush has worn off and my damn ankle is still very much broken.</p><p>Tamlin's arms surround me like a vice, preventing my knees from slamming into the ground.</p><p>"What's wrong? Are you hurt? Did it hurt you?" He says, searching my face.</p><p>"It's my ankle; I broke it in the fall," I flex my toes and am greeted by shooting pain straight up to the top of my thigh. "I'm not going to be able to walk on this," I add, exhaling as I lean into Tamlin and remove the pressure from the joint.</p><p>"Hold on," He instructs, then hoists me into his arms. The world tilts until I'm nestled into his naked chest, staring up at his sculpted jaw.</p><p>"But your hand! You can't hold me like this," I start to wiggle, trying to get down but stop when he groans in pain.</p><p>"It's fine and the fastest option. Your safe, and that's all that matters to me…now stop squirming," He says, placing a kiss on my forehead. I quickly run through our options and can't find fault with its logic. Still, the thought of hurting him any more today weighs heavily on me.</p><p>He begins the long walk back to the manor, and I sigh, ready to be home. My ankle numbs comfortably as the blood drains away from it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0035"><h2>35. Clever Sins</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'll just...put this here.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Even though we are physically close, Tamlin feels miles away as we walk. </p><p>Every so often, he glances around, eyes wary and jaw clenched. He doesn't speak, and I don't press it—even if I'm dying to talk about what just happened. The creature he has spent months researching and plotting to kill has just been slain—the threat looming over my head no more. Within a few days, two of the shackles that bound me to the court will be cleaved. Curse free and without the lingering threat of the Suriel, I can finally see my family again.</p><p><em>Maybe he doesn't want me to go?</em> I consider, studying his eyes as they dart along the tree cover. But that doesn't really make sense.</p><p>Why go to all the trouble of freeing me from my curse and hunting the Suriel? He could still be mad about earlier—the whole 'Feyre learns to read' fiasco, but that seems like small stuff compared to what just happened.</p><p>The longer I look, the more I wonder if he is still thinking about this morning. I had tried to be diplomatic with him, had even said I was willing to talk it out. He had responded with an ultimatum. While that irked me to no end, the slight Tamlin was so mad about, only skimmed the surface of what I hid from him. I was cheating on Tamlin with Lucien—and while it felt like something else when we were together, it was still cheating at the end of the day. If Tamlin ever found out…I couldn't imagine what he would say or do.</p><p>
  <em>Worry not between one or the other; you will have them both.</em>
</p><p>The Suriel's words tickle my memory, fresh and potent. How had the Fae known I was thinking about the guys, and what did it mean 'have them both'? If I was taking the Suriel's word as absolute truth, did that suggest, given the context that it thought I would be in an open relationship with Tamlin <em>and</em> Lucien? I currently have a relationship with both of them, but the Suriel indicated that I 'will have them both' in a different way than I do now. </p><p>I'm desperate to believe that the three of us could be united, but I keep remembering the way Tamlin's hands slammed into the table this morning as he forbid me to <em>read</em>. What other ways could I <em>have</em> them? To have their love? I genuinely believe that I already do—Lucien's admission that he was not completely High Fae, that moment we shared? It was love, no questions. To have their loyalty? Their protection? These are things I also possess. Trust, affection, companionship, bodies, minds, I sort through the connections I have with these males and tick them each off the list. </p><p>Could it be that one day the three of us can balance each other openly? That I can love them both without deception or deceit? </p><p>I realize that I would want this more than anything, even going back to the human world. </p><p>I'm caught up in our personal drama when Tamlin finally speaks.</p><p>"Did the Suriel say anything to you?"</p><p>
  <em>"You don't belong here."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"The story of Feyre, who tastes the forbidden fruit, who knows, who feeds the flames of change, a future christened in destruction, and death."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Careful, don't cut yourself."</em>
</p><p>All the Suriel did was talk. But what did any of it mean? That I was some sort of horrible interloper, destined to destroy and die? That I was going to have a meaningful and steamy relationship with both males?  Then the Fae had thrown my curse in my face, handing me a rose and warning me to watch out for the thorns. Surely this was a reference to the thorns of the wall, and it must have known how I bled each day—how I was trapped here.</p><p>But if the Suriel knew so much, knew of my curse—why didn't it kill me the moment it had the chance? Considering its behaviour and fighting abilities, it was clear I was no threat. During the conversation, I had thought the Fae needed to ritualistically reveal truths before sealing the deal and killing. Then Tamlin had come along and attacked the creature, and while it appeared hell-bent on <em>eating</em> Tamlin—it hadn't shared any truths or mysterious gifts like it had to me. </p><p>Maybe the Suriel wasn't going to kill me after all? But then why did it hurt me here on the first day and attack Tamlin? Did it change its mind about eating me? Was its issue only with Tamlin? </p><p>Then again, It had told me death was near and started to unhinge its jaw all creepy-like. Maybe that was it preparing to 'siphon' my soul as the book had said.</p><p>"Feyre, did it say anything to you?" Tamlin asked again, enunciation each syllable. </p><p>Whoops, that's right, he's waiting for a response. </p><p>"It basically told me that I didn't belong here and that I was going to be destroyed...or maybe destroy, and die," I said, dismissing the dramatic ramblings of the Lesser Fae. I was already weary of trying to understand the prophecies of the Suriel. </p><p>Tamlin had the opposite response from what I expected. He squeezed me a bit tighter and stopped walking. I studied his face, but I couldn't tell if he was scared, confused, or angry—or a combination of all three.</p><p>"Did it say <em>anything</em> else? I saw the rose Feyre. What did it say about that?" </p><p>The way he says that last part rattles around in my brain like some sort of <em>accusation</em>. Like I'm purposely hiding things from him. Why does a rose on the ground matter so much? Is he trying to insinuate that he knows more about Lucien and me than he was letting on? Or am I just paranoid? </p><p>"Yeah, I don't know about that one. It just like, tried to give me this rose, and then told me not to cut myself on it," I reply, making total eye contact that I hope conveys honesty. One day he might come around to me and Lucien like the Suriel suggested, but I don't think today is that day. </p><p>"That fucking <em>thing</em> thinks it's so clever. Good riddance," Tamlin fumes, eyes flashing deadly emerald. </p><p>"Clever for what?" What did Tamlin think the rose meant? </p><p>"The curse, the thorns and the wall. The damn thing just could help but throw it all in our faces. I'm absolutely livid that it has to come to this Feyre. That you ever had to be in danger when I <em>promised you</em> that the Suriel was nothing to worry about. I spent all this time protecting you and <em>still</em> managed to fail," </p><p>The anger in his eyes dissipated, and he crushed his lids over his eyes, shielding his emotions. He started to walk again—but I reached up to him, tracing the curve of his lip. </p><p>"This isn't your fault. We had an argument, and I made a choice—a stupid one—but one that was all my own. It didn't kill me, and now it's dead! We will heal. Please look at this as I do, a step forward," </p><p>As I spoke, Tamlin's lids began to crack open, revealing those deep gemstone eyes of his. </p><p>"I will protect you, Feyre. No matter what."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0036"><h2>36. Lead Embellishments</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The walk back to the manor is long and uncomfortable. My ankle is throbbing, and my cheek has started to swell where I bit it. But I cannot stand how much pain Tamlin must be in—holding me with his ruined hand.</p><p>He refuses to take any breaks, and my leg is damp from his bloody flesh. Every so often, he grunts in pain and re-adjusts his grip—and my stomach roils.</p><p>After his declaration of protection, Tamlin is mostly silent. He develops a sort of hostile quality that doesn't suit him, and I retreat back into my thoughts, contemplating the Suriel's words.</p><p>Lucien meets us at the door. Once, Tamlin practically threw me into the redhead's arms when I was hurt—begging the male to heal me. Today, Tamlin clutches me tighter, only laying me down once we've reached a lounger in one of the sitting rooms. I can't quite catch Lucien's reaction as we enter the manor, and he says nothing.</p><p>I need to talk to Lucien about the note and possibly what the Suriel said about the three of us. I think Tamlin will leave me with Lucien while he cleans what's left of his hand, but instead, he drags over a chair and plops next to me.</p><p>When Lucien arrives with his medical supplies kit, he only makes the briefest eye contact with me before wrapping his hands on my ankle. </p><p>There's a flicker of concern mixed with sadness in his gaze—something I'm amazed I could even get from such a quick look. The urge to kiss him is overwhelming, and I fidget as he peels back my pants to reveal my wound.</p><p>Warmth spreads over the limb like I just stepped into a hot-spring. Bubbles of magic climb up through my bones—healing and correcting as they go.</p><p>"What did this, Tam?" He asks, forehead pressed into my leg.  </p><p>"The Suriel has been dispatched," He replies, letting a cold note enter his voice.</p><p>Lucien only nods, and I feel the tendrils of magic hug my leg. Lucien continues until all pain is gone and my ankle bends and twists naturally once more.</p><p>I stay when Lucien starts to clean Tamlin's degloved hand, running my fingers through his fine blonde hair. Like my first night here, the wound is too complicated for Lucien to simply knit back together. So he prepares several tubs of water and linens to be placed in series over the exposed tissue.</p><p>I split my attention between them, noticing the tension in Tamlin and Lucien's concentration. I pretend that the three of us are together and happy, that Tamlin didn't react the way he did this morning. I pretend that Lucien didn't bend me over the table and ask me to picture Tamlin sitting there. I pretend that things are equal and balanced between the three of us, that honesty and love are abundant. We understand and support each other; we take care of each other. It's easy to deceive myself, seeing Lucien knelt before Tamlin's hand, gently cleansing the damage. I remind myself that for decades it has just been the two of them in this house, survivors of a savage attack for a father's war crimes.</p><p>Lucien finishes prepping the rough area and then lightly grips onto Tamlin's forearm. New flesh buds around clumps of meaty muscle, quickly stretching out and forming a fresh pink layer.</p><p>I bite my lower lip in thought but quickly wince at the pain from the gash in my mouth. Tracing the skin of my cheek, I remember my hard fall to the ground. Sitting there, mapping out the cut, I'm reminded of another injury, one I once saw on Tamlin's lip. The day he told me of the Suriel, we had been at the breakfast table, and I had noticed a bruise around his perfect lips. I had been devastated to learn Tamlin had been attacked by the Lesser Fae, who had followed me to the mansion's borders. </p><p>Now, watching Lucien literally create new skin from <em>thin air</em>, I can’t understand why Tamlin didn't get that small bruise healed way back when?</p><p>From above, there is a soft clang—like an old clock or even a drum. The guys don't stir, and when I realize I'm touching my lip, I drop my hand. My gaze falls to Tamlin's face, and I can't get that darned bruised mouth off my mind.</p><p>He had seemed reluctant and dismissive when explaining the cause of the injury to me. He could have avoided my questions if he had simply gotten Lucien to take care of it. Maybe it was so small he didn't bother?</p><p>But then again, when I saw that Tamlin had been hurt, I had felt immediate guilt. At that time, I was still second-guessing my safety in the spring court. Something about that little innocuous bruised lip seemed too convenient. It was one of the reasons I stayed, and now something didn't quite line-up. </p><p>But, the Suriel had found me just as Tamlin said it would, and after a brief conversation, was ready to drain the life from me. I could admit it was not something Tamlin had made up to keep me here—I had seen for myself the threat that it was. Ultimately, he had protected me. </p><p>Speaking of borders, creatures, and safety—there was another matter for me to consider: Who was <em>Hybern</em>? Tamlin talked like this was another High Fae and one he did not trust—despite this, they had an alliance. Did Hybern come to the house? How come we had never met? If things like the Suriel still invaded the Spring Court, then what <em>job</em> did Hybern do? How come he couldn't have left on all those ‘Suriel hunting expeditions’ that Tamlin did?</p><p>More importantly, if Hybern protected the Spring Court—<em>what did Tamlin do in return?</em></p><p>He may have tried to play it off like it was nothing, but another player in the court was <em>everything</em>—and neither of them had told me.</p><p>Once, my father imported a vintage dress, worn by a queen over a hundred years ago. It was a burgundy monstrosity, with puffy sleeves and intricate layers of lead beading. The garment came enclosed in a large frame that was deep like a window. He had told me of a buyer who was planning to pay an exorbitant amount of coin for it and how it would make up for the price of shipping it to our home. When my father removed the dress from the frame for inspection, he discovered a bead that was different from the rest, what he thought was a modern stand-in for an embellishment that was lost to time.</p><p> Knowing the buyer would notice this flaw, my father attempted to find a replacement bead from the correct era. It was when he began to examine the other beads did he notice their inconsistencies. All the beads were fakes, replicas aged to fit the period of the dress. Even worse, the garment itself was made from a modern fabric, and the entire item was revealed to be a fraud. </p><p>My father had been swindled, and he paid handsomely for it. This wouldn't be the first or the last time this would happen—and eventually, his poor business choices would catch up with him.</p><p>That story always stuck with me, maybe because I had admired that dress so much. I had begged my father to let me try it on, spent hours imagining the queen prancing around in yards of priceless velvet.</p><p>Finding that first bead was devastating, and it was only the start to the problems the dress was hiding. It had so many more lies to be revealed if you looked a little closer.</p><p>Hybern was like that metal bead—an outlier, an inconsistency. It told me that if I started to look deeper, I wouldn't like what I found.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0037"><h2>37. The Same Page</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Finding Tamlin alone at the head of the table feels too much like yesterday for my liking. I take a seat at his bidding but cringe when I think of Lucien slamming into me while he forced me to look up at Tamlin's chair. My cheeks burn, and I hope it can be played off as embarrassment for how I acted yesterday.</p>
<p>Tamlin is dressed in a flowing white shirt, sculpted with a gold-trimmed brown waistcoat. From what I can see, mossy green britches cover his legs, and gold trimmed-boots his feet. There are matching golden cuffs covering his pointed ears, and he has braided back the hair around his face to better display the metallic accents. The cuffs are the same climbing vine design as his mask, and I wonder if the two were made by the same craftsman. He's absolutely dashing, and it takes me back to the first time I saw him. He is also absolutely unreadable right now.</p>
<p>I can only guess Tamlin called me here to talk about what happened. Last night all three of us were uncharacteristically silent. Tamlin asked me to go to bed with him, but I had refused; I needed some time alone.

I had been dying to talk to Lucien—although getting information from him was always a war, I wanted to speak to him about what the Suriel said and the note I had left. If I told him the Suriel prophesized us having a relationship together, what would he say? Would he believe it?</p>
<p>Tamlin clears his throat, and I meet his gaze.</p>
<p>"It was wrong of me to make rules for you based on my jealousy," He begins, looking uncomfortable. "I realize how your curse has kept you reliant on Lucien and vulnerable around him. I can understand friendship with Lucien because I too have been his friend,"</p>
<p>"The thing is, Lucien doesn't make friends easily. He tends to fuck any friend he has ever had, so you can see my concern at finding you in his room late at night…" Tamlin trails off, and I can't help the look of complete shock on my face.</p>
<p>
  <em>Wait a second, is he saying that he and Lucien…</em>
</p>
<p><em>Is he saying he knows what has been going on? </em>I doubted it given his reaction yesterday.</p>
<p>"Calanmai is in two days. Further research confirms the magic of the night can be transferred, as I hopped into freeing you from this <em>curse</em>…once and for all."</p>
<p>Well, I will have ticked two major items off my list in a mere span of seventy-two hours. That's certainly something.</p>
<p>"I see," I say, toying with the sleeve of my dress—a yellow long-sleeve.</p>
<p>"I believe that once the curse is gone, you can finally have the freedom you deserve. You <em>deserve</em> to be happy and not feel as if you are trapped here. I don't want to push you away or snap and make ridiculous rules. Calanmai can fix this for us, and instead of sitting here and offering meaningless apologies—I hope I can right my wrongs by offering you this."</p>
<p>" Thank you for sitting and talking to me about how you feel and going a step further to stop my curse. It seems like you've done your best to understand my situation and offer a solution." I don't say that it's one I didn't ask for, but I appreciate his effort nonetheless. 

"I'm just glad we can stop spending so much time worrying about the Suriel, not to mention collecting my blood in jars…I mean, that was just creepy," I laugh, remembering the wall of bloody bandages and scraps of cloth. Tamlin had started to hide away the evidence in case the Suriel smelled my blood and was drawn closer to us.</p>
<p>"Yes, well…in a few days, that won't even matter anymore," Tamlin says, flexing his fingers, examining them.</p>
<p>"How is your hand doing?" I ask, but Tamlin seems lost in thought.</p>
<p>Gathering my skirts, I make my way over to his seat at the table, placing a gentle hand over the pink flesh of his healing skin.</p>
<p>"Does it hurt?" I say again, and this time he turns his breath-taking face to mine.</p>
<p>"Not as much as losing you would have,"</p>
<p>"Oh, Tamlin,"</p>
<p>I bring the raw flesh to my lips and feather a kiss. This man would die for me; he loved me. The kiss on his hand soon transitioned to a kiss on his lips. The warm texture was like coming home. He parted his mouth and fit it against mine—adapting and matching my movements.

 He had been wrong, and he knew it—I wasn't going to make him kill himself over a moment of anger. The Gods knew I was doing much worse to Tamlin than he had done to me, but still somehow, according to one mysterious Lesser Fae, the three of us were destined to be together.</p>
<p>I move to break off the kiss, but Tamlin's hands circle around me. While I had meant to leave, given the circumstance—I'll allow it. His need, concern, love, and protective instincts ooze from every pore. He draws me into his lap, and I find myself straddling his mossy green britches.<br/>

There's something to be said about a devastatingly handsome man, kissing you like it's keeping him alive—like you're the air in his lungs. To have a powerful and deadly warrior clinging to you, like your body is some sort of salvation, goes straight to a lady's head. </p>
<p>Right now, said lady's head is feeling rather empty and rather hot.</p>
<p>
  <em>I should breathe. Breathing is a thing that I need to do. </em>
</p>
<p>I take small gulps of air as Tamlin ravishes my lips. His hips are grinding through the layers of my dress, and little grunts escape him like he can't hold on much longer. We're both reaching for him through the laces of his pants, fingers seeking the hardened flesh trapped below.</p>
<p>I rear back and take in a large breath of air, nearly passing out from the influx of oxygen into my blood.</p>
<p>"<em>I need you,</em>" Tamlin growls, guttural and out of control.</p>
<p>"Then take me."</p>
<p>Tamlin's response is to sink his teeth into my neck. But my moment of shock is quickly eclipsed by the slide of his cock into me. His mouth grips savagely into my neck as he pumps into me like his life depends on it.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div><p>It's late afternoon, and I'm painting a still life of an apple when the thorn marks on my arms open. I drop the paintbrush, arms alight with astonishing pain. Gods, it had been almost a month since it had hurt this much!</p>
<p>A quick look down reveals streams of bright red blood staining the oddities room's circular rug. </p>
<p>"Gods!"</p>
<p>Lucien had never given a very detailed explanation for the level of severity my curse enacted each day. 

Initially, it was worse, but this eventually tapered off into a twinge of pain and a faint oozing of blood. After being healed each day, the wound had no time to build, and it became quite manageable.</p>
<p>Lucien had told me that with regular care, salves, and some magical guidance—the curse would stay this way. I had followed his prescribed routine to the letter—but something had obviously gone very wrong today.</p>
<p>Staring down at my ruined arms, I tried to think of the last time they had bled. It must have been while Lucien was healing Tamlin and me after the fight with the Suriel. I had barely noticed the twinge of pain before Lucien took it away.</p>
<p>"Oh Goddess, what did you do?" Tamlin gasps, entering the room with a glass of wine.</p>
<p>"Nothing, get Lucien. It's the curse—something is wrong,"</p>
<p>But Tamlin doesn't move. He sets the glass down and rips off some fabric from a new washcloth I had in my painting supplies.</p>
<p>"There's no need for Lucien," He says, winding the strips over my arms with expert pressure. "I've been doing a lot of reading about curses, and I think I know what's happening here. The curse is rebounding from the events of yesterday," He pauses to bring the end of the cloth to his mouth—ripping it off with his teeth.</p>
<p>"This is from the Suriel?"</p>
<p>"No, it's more likely it's because you tried to exit Prythian, got too close to the wall—that sort of thing," He says, finishing the wrap of my other arm. They still sting, but it's manageable, and I'm no longer dripping onto the priceless Fae rug, which is a relief.</p>
<p>"You are mine, and I will take care of you in whatever way I can, Feyre. I hate seeing you like this, but I'm going to make it right." He says as he draws his forehead down to mine.</p>
<p>"You have no idea what that means to me, Tamlin,"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0038"><h2>38. The Drums</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>The day before Calanmai </em>
</p><p>My lungs are on fire. I'm running as fast as I can, heated by the flames at my back. A great crashing noise rumbles behind me like an entire house has been split in two. I kick something, and it rolls away, but I don't have time to look at what it was. Ahead are acres of trees, their leaves a menagerie of fall colours.</p><p>I stumble and struggle to keep pace as my feet collide with several small objects that litter the path.</p><p>Is that <em>an apple?</em></p><p>Suddenly I'm up to my knees, wading through piles and piles of crimson fruit. Then their waist-high, then over my head, and then there is only darkness.</p><p>***</p><p>As I get ready for the day, I contemplate what my subconscious has against apples. While not uncommon for me to wake up in the throws of a Lesser-Fae-inspired night terror, the apples had been a new touch. </p><p>There's an energy in the manner that I have never felt before, a sort of chaotic efficiency. I imagined it's what war must have felt like—an organized prelude to complete chaos. </p><p>When I make my way to the main rooms, I find Tamlin collecting wood from all of the fireplaces like some sort of deranged beaver. He's constantly flipping through a lacquered red book written in high Fae that details the requirements for Calanmai. The ritual requires several strategically placed bonfires to the west of the manor, hence collecting wood.</p><p>Despite the length list of tasks he must complete, Tamlin keeps me close throughout the day. I haven't been alone with Lucien to ask his opinion on my encounter with the Suriel, and it's starting to get on my nerves.</p><p>We're in one of the studies, looking at collections of crystal and glass for the ritual when Lucien strolls in.</p><p>He has his trademark paperback folded into his right hand, his hair tousled haphazardly around his tanned face. He's wearing a red velvet coat with golden stitching and lacey tufts of cotton peeking out the cuffs. While I can't help but notice him, Tamlin is thoroughly distracted by the crystal orbs to lift an eyelash in Lucien's direction.</p><p>Lucien glides over the rose-patterned rug towards me, and I'm mesmerized with the movement of his adam's apple as he swallows. We were looking at each other in a way that's unwise—given the company in the room. But I don't ever want to stop looking at Lucien, problematic as it might be. Today he seems alight with all sorts of emotions—and part of me wishes that I didn't recognize any of them.</p><p><em>Hurt, desire, concern, anger</em>—I can see them clearly in the lines in his brow, the tilt of his mouth.</p><p>He leans over my chair, reaching for the bookshelf I've camped out beside—and brushes his fingers over my cheek. The motion is hidden from Tamlin, and I lean into the touch. His hand descends to my arms, and I shudder when I feel the warmth of his magic slip and smooth into my wounds—healing yesterday's gory mess. </p><p>I can tell he's furious at Tamlin for not letting him heal the marks when they happened, and by the way he's looking at me—I know he thinks Tamlin did this as some sort of punishment for running away. But I shake my head because I know what Tam was feeling, which had nothing to do with punishment. Lucien lets it go.</p><p>"I know why you left," He whispers, too low for Tamlin to hear.</p><p>I don't respond. A collection of memories flits through my mind—Tamlin yelling at the table, leaving Lucien the note in the kitchens, Aleron being transformed into a pile of bones by the Suriel.</p><p>Lucien leans back, inspecting the book in his hands before handing it to me. Before I can question it, he's retreating to the far corner of the study.</p><p>I look down. <em>"The History of the Autumn Court"</em> rests in my hands, and I frown. I look back at Lucien, but his careful mask of indifference is in place as he reads his paperback.</p><p>I flip open the pages, and it falls to a dog-eared spot. Hidden within the pages is a small scrap of paper with Lucien's elegant scrawl.</p><p>
  <em>"I thought this could happen another way…but it seems this was destined from the start."</em>
</p><p>I take in a sharp breath. Was Lucien aware of the Suriel's prophecy somehow? Was he talking about the three of us being together? It seemed impossible.</p><p>I meet Lucien's eyes across the room, but they're as sombre as the grave. Whatever destiny Lucien has in mind seems to be at odds with mine, and that scares me.</p><p>A beat echos around the room, ruffling the pages of the book in my grasp.</p><p>"What was that?" I ask.</p><p>Tamlin's golden hair flops over as he turns towards me. "You can hear the drums? Interesting."</p><p>"Yeah, I've been hearing it for a while, but it's more frequent today," I add, relieved that he could also detect the mysterious beating.</p><p>"Ah yes, those would be the drums of Calanmai. They beat faster towards the ceremony, drawing the magic of the night into a tangible force. Lucien and I have been ignoring them for years, but I didn't expect them to be noticeable to the human ear," Tamlin explained, absently leafing through the pages of his high Fae volume.</p><p>"I see. Will Hybern be at the ceremony tomorrow?" I ask, then quickly bite my tongue. <em>Why would I ask that? </em>But a big part of me was tired of being kept in the dark for 'my safety.' It hadn't done us any favours with the Suriel, and I was still irritated they had never told me about Hybern before.</p><p>"Why would you ask something like that? Of course, he won't be there," Tamlin volleyed back. </p><p>I didn't dare shift my gaze to look at Lucien, but I could see the unmistakable arch of his brow in my peripheral vision. Did Lucien know about Hybern 'the ally?' There is no comment from his corner of the room, and I felt the mild sting of his omission. Lucien always pointed me in the direction of Tamlin's secrets, but it seemed like he had a few of his own.</p><p>"You seemed more concerned about Hybern finding me in the forest than the Suriel. Won't he hear the drums too? I just want a warning if your dangerous ally is going to attend," I finish with a cool look at both males.</p><p>"You make a good point, sweet human," Lucien offered after an uncomfortable stretch of silence.</p><p>Was that Lucien's form of an apology? I swivelled my head to Tamlin, carefully watching for his reaction. It was uncommon for Lucien to take such an open stance towards the other male. If I didn't know better, I'd think he was trying to bait him—but why now?</p><p>But Tamlin's head was down, and his shoulders slumped inward. </p><p>"Regardless, Feyre, he won't be there," He mumbled, tucking a quill and slip of paper into his breast pocket and rising from the floor.</p><p>Tamlin extended a hand towards me. "Come, I have something to show you."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0039"><h2>39. Choosing Destruction</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I've finally gotten back into the groove to wrap up Devil's Dance! Hoping to post the last couple of chapters sooner rather than later! (gotta write most of it first ;) )</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>The day of Calanmai</em>
</p><p>The drums wake me that morning. Their incessant beating marks every hour, then each half-hour as the sun hunts its way across a crisp blue sky. Each beat thrums through the house and stirs something deep in my chest. There's a pinch between my shoulder blades, and I can't seem to get comfortable in any position. It's like someone is calling my name, but I can't even hear the words; I don't know what direction to run, so I stay put.</p><p>There's a ceremonial outfit and diadem that glitter in the corner of my rooms. Tamlin had told me the crown belonged to his mother, and from the way he held it—I could tell it was one of the most precious things he owned. Tamlin never had a kind word about his father, whose war crimes had caused so much death and his son's curse—but his mother clearly was the light of this place.</p><p>It's a big gift, and it feels akin to a wedding ring.</p><p>Tamlin made me recite his instructions back to him when he left at dawn. He would go to the ceremony site in the east, and I would prepare at the house. At sunset, I would follow the fires to his location—and the two of us would join together while the magic condensed within him. Tamlin would use that magic to dissolve the wall's ties to me. I could only leave at sunset, not a moment sooner or later.</p><p>An hour after Tamlin left, I crept into Lucien's bedroom.</p><p>His spicy scent, mixed with candy apples and smoke, still clung to the air. A fire dwindled in the hearth, and I knew he had just been here. I hadn't dared to come here last night or any other since Tamlin had discovered me missing from my room.</p><p>Trailing the pads of my fingers along the tight rows of books in his personal library, I inhaled his scent. Something about this place relaxes me, and it brings me back to the night he bathed the blood off me. Unhurried, I check each inch of his room and come up empty. No fox-faced males for me to torment this morning, it seems. But I can't bring myself to leave. I love Lucien's room.</p><p>Picking up my skirts, I launch myself onto his four-poster bed.</p><p>"<em>Gods</em>," I groan out, nuzzling my cheek into the pillows as the fresh burst of his scent envelops me.</p><p>
  <em>Where is he?</em>
</p><p>"Lucien!?" I call out, unable to contain the husky tone in my voice. It was a big house, but those Fae had impeccable hearing.</p><p>No response. He must be helping Tamlin with the bonfires or something. I should have known that Tamlin wouldn't allow us to be alone together so close to the ceremony.</p><p>I sink further into the blankets, content to stay in his bed just in case he returns.</p><p>"Today is the last day of my curse," I say to the vaulted ceiling and its soft flickering light. But saying it aloud doesn't shake the unreal quality of the statement.</p><p>I had been in Prythian for three human months.  Every day I had bled from my arms where its thorns had raked my skin on that first afternoon. Passing through that magical barrier between the Fae and human worlds had marked me. Bleeding and alone, I had wandered through the wilderness till I found Tamlin and this house. Unbeknownst to me, a second danger had followed my blood trail to the manor—the Suriel.</p><p>And while the curse and the Suriel were not challenges I enjoyed, I did not regret my time here. For one thing, I was close to starving by the time I reached the Spring court—my body a sorry collection of injuries and bones. And while I had a family that I loved and supported, I had always felt alone. I could never understand their social interactions and thought that 'falling in love was something trivial.</p><p>I had been so focused on keeping us alive that I never truly lived. I could see that now. I could see how learning to relax, take care of myself, and embrace love had changed me. I could still hunt and be that Feyre, but I didn't need to be in survival mode all the time anymore. I was painting, learning how to read, trying new foods, and learning this different—although magical, culture. I was wearing pretty dresses, I laughed every day, and I was falling in love—twice over.</p><p>After today, I would be free to choose to be whatever Feyre I wanted to be. I wasn't forced to stay or go—I didn't have to depend on the guys. I could carve out my own place in either world with their support.</p><p>Did I want to go back home? I had known for some time that I could only see a future here in Prythian, but I certainly wanted to make a trip home to visit my father and sisters. I could see the look on their faces when I came home, carrying baskets of food from the spring court and treasures for them to sell.</p><p>Then I would come back here, to Tamlin and Lucien. Our next steps would be to give them the same sense of freedom that I would obtain with Calanmai. Neither could leave this court, and Tamlin was still caged with that golden mask—a visible reminder of his trauma. I could see the insidious way that being contained here—no matter how lovely it was, had eroded my sense of freedom. I couldn't imagine what over fifty years of confinement had done to the two of them.</p><p>The Suriel had told me the three of us would have each other, and maybe that could only happen when each of us overcame the restraints in our lives.</p><p>I exhaled a heavy breath, filing away my thoughts for another day. Part of me knew that I was getting ahead of myself, but I couldn't help how hopeful I felt.</p><p>Turning into the feathered comforter, I was rewarded with another smoky burst of pure Lucien.</p><p>A couple of minutes turned into a couple of hours as I drifted off in his bed.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div><p><br/>
After several unsuccessful attempts, I found a hidden clasp and fit the gilded metal corset around my waist. I had worked up a light sweat trying to secure the very beautiful but very confusing piece of metalwork over my sage green dress. I padded the white fluff back into the iridescent powder Tamlin had instructed me to apply all over my body, erasing the sheen of sweat on my collar bones. </p><p>Trails of my green gossamer sleeves fluttered before me as I secured the earrings to my lobes. They were a matching pair of butterfly wings—a rainbow of colour dipped in gold at the base, incredible and otherworldly in their craftsmanship. </p><p>His mother's diadem featured several more wings in a burst of impossible colours. Gold made up the base of the crown and secured the delicate wings into a fan the protected them from the wearer's hair.</p><p>A soft drum beat thrummed through the room, vibrating the paper-thin wings on the Faerie crown. The beats had become more frequent as the day became dusky and golden. Every ten minutes or so, the drums would sound—steady and ancient.</p><p>I picked up the diadem and turned to face the silver-foil mirror, settling it over the cascade of curls and braids I had artfully arranged.</p><p>Catching my reflection in the mirror, I thought I looked anything but human today. My skin seemed to glow from the inside, and my bath of milk and rose petals had made it butter-smooth.</p><p>Scrolls of gold hugged my ribs, and the sleeves hung from my shoulders in pools of wispy fabric. My legs peeked out from the high cuts of the dress on either side, leaving them free to welcome every whisper of gauze or rush of wind.</p><p>I felt beautiful, free, and full of magic.</p><p>I felt like a Faerie Queen.</p><p>I followed the call of the drums down the grand staircase, each step releasing the tension I had felt building throughout the day—sweat evaporating from the small of my back. Destiny was calling me, guiding me towards the next chapter in my life.</p><p>But before I could reach the bottom, the front doors flew open in the crash of sound that burst my little bubble of serenity.</p><p>Lucien strode through, hair unbound and dancing over his shirtless chest. Low-slung trousers graced his hips, highlighting his hip bones.</p><p>But what stopped me in my tracks was the sight of his wings. Dark burgundy swaths of skin stretched over a series of intricate bones. It felt totally natural to see him with his wings on full display, and I felt a bittersweet pang that they had to be hidden most of the time.</p><p>The rays of the sun fell behind him, allowing my eyes to re-adjust and take in his mask-free face. His scars ran through that crafted golden eye, matching the intensity of the russet one on his right.</p><p>Looking at him felt like every breath I would ever take for the rest of my life could be re-written in an instant.</p><p>"You look incredible; I'm sorry it took so long," He purred, striding to meet me at the foot of the stairs.</p><p>"I wasn't aware I had an escort to the party tonight."</p><p>"Not quite; in fact, I have strict orders to stay away from you tonight. But I couldn't stand the thought of you having those thorn marks on your arms a second more than required," He mused, his wings catching the humid air and blowing it past the sleeves of my dress. I was mildly surprised that Tamlin had gone about 'ordering' Lucien after all our talks about freedom and independence. Surely he wouldn't want my curse ruining how lovely I looked tonight.</p><p>"You're not very obedient, are you? Can we do it on the way there?" I replied, irritation brewing against the golden-haired Fae I was due to meet.</p><p>"I'll obey you, sweet human," Lucien quickly replied, fingering the tail of my braids. He pushed the heavy strands over a shoulder, and my breath caught. I had been way too tense today to have him touch me like this. It was becoming hard to remember what I was supposed to be doing, where I needed to go.</p><p>"You look excited."</p><p>"I am," I huffed, breath coming in short and escaping my lungs too fast to clear my mind.</p><p>As if on cue, the bells of Calanmai tolled, and I took a compulsive step towards the doorway and closer to Lucien.</p><p>"Why so excited," Lucien drawled, taking advantage of our proximity and threading his fingers into my hair, gripping my skull with delicious skill.</p><p>"All of this excites me, you, him. Soon, I'll have the freedom I lost—and that means everything to me," The truth tumbled out of me before I could stop it, and I looked up into his mismatched gaze and waited for the inevitable jealously at the mention of Tamlin.</p><p>But Lucien's eyes stilled, searching mine before I watched him pack up his emotions and lock them into a small box. If he had certain feelings about my relationship with Tamlin, he wouldn't share them tonight. He took a big breath in, letting his eyes close.</p><p>Unable to see him stifle what he felt, I reached up—running my fingers along a wing and testing the heat of it under my palm. It was hot.</p><p>"Have you….been in my bed,"</p><p>His eyes were open now, studying me with an intensity that I knew all too well. His grip on my skull tightened, and I shifted against him. It had been too long since Lucien, and I had the time to indulge in each other…but I had somewhere to be.</p><p>"I need to go," I said, trying—and failing to infuse some urgency into my tone.</p><p>"Oh, no, no, no sweet human, not after that admission. Show me what you did in my bed."</p><p>I closed my hands over his wing near his shoulder and pushed—but Lucien was an immovable wall and only shuddered in pleasure as I pressed into him.</p><p>"My freedom Lucien, the ceremony has to be done to break my curse," I groaned out, loving the feeling of his wings under my hands.</p><p>"After all is said and done, Feyre, know that everything I have done is for your freedom. Besides, look at the skies—we have plenty of time before the ceremony." He said, gesturing towards the open door behind him. </p><p>"Use your freedom and choose this, with me,"</p><p>He was right. A quick glance revealed a sky with the beginnings of red and orange tinting the horizon. What was freedom if not the choice to act and have what you wanted anyway? Right now, I wanted him.</p><p>I took his hand, and he whisked us away in his familiar brand of darkness, and I did my best to ignore the itch of premonition that told me I might be pushing my luck.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Looks like I might just fit in some more smut before the end!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0040"><h2>40. Souls on Fire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Short (but not that sweet) chapter for ya!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I'm deposited onto Lucien's bed in a heap of delicate fabrics and iridescent, powdered skin. I expect Lucien to be on me in an instant, but he holds back—prowling at the edge of the bed frame. His wings stretch out behind him, blocking the light from the fire.</p>
<p>"Undress," He commands, eyes hungrily taking in the sight of me in his bed. I can't seem to break eye contact with him as I pull uselessly at the sleeves of my gown. I curse when I realize I have to unclasp the complicated metal corset before the rest can be removed. Changing course, I sweep my hands forward and run my fingers through the high slit of the gown. There are no underclothes to shield his gaze from me, so I open my legs as my hand ventures towards my center.</p>
<p>This is what I had imagined all afternoon while I slept surrounded by his scent. He had asked me to show him what I had done in his bed, and he was about to have a full demonstration. </p>
<p>All of the candles around the room flair a brilliant red, and the heat scorches my skin.</p>
<p>"I told you to undress. Now do so, or there will be consequences," Lucien orders with a scary sort of calm.</p>
<p>I know I've angered him, eliciting that dangerous burst of his demonic side—but damn it if I don't find him sexier than he has ever been. I slowly draw my hands up the complicated latches of the corset as my heart rattles in my chest. The sudden burst of heat in the room created an instant sheen across my skin and pooling between my thighs that's impossible to ignore.</p>
<p>Sometimes I imagine that Lucien could burn me alive, and I would be hard-pressed to care.</p>
<p>The latch finally gives with a metallic clink, and Lucien's head gives a predatory tilt at the sound. He is still clad in just a low-slung set of pants, making it easy to see the rapid rise and fall of his muscled chest as I slip out of the golden cage that held my waist.</p>
<p>In one steady motion, I drag down the bodice of my gown, and unencumbered by the metal fastening—It glides off my body like a summer breeze.</p>
<p>The drums of Calanmai are muffled around us but still ever-present within the center of my chest. A spark of rebellion and power thrums through me, and I shudder under their influence.</p>
<p>Lucien is all fire, taking in the sparkling expanse of my skin before his eyes settle on the butterfly diadem on top of my head.</p>
<p>I reach up to remove the precious heirloom, but Lucien shakes his head sharply.</p>
<p>"No, you'll leave the crown on," The words come out in a growl, and I know I'm dealing with a different Lucien than I usually see.</p>
<p>You would think I would feel like a slave, ordered to undress and expose myself to the hot-headed male in front of me. But stretched out naked before him, surrounded by his smoky scent, and wearing only a crown truly makes me feel like a queen—a queen about to dance with the devil.</p>
<p>A swirl of darkness closes over Lucien's frame, but before I can blink, he hovers over my body, wings fanned out impossibly wide. Primal energy courses through me, and I lift my hips up to meet his naked body. I don't ask how he got rid of his pants because, at this point, I don't really care.</p>
<p>His hands, glowing with barely contained fire magic, burn a trail down my body—and my need triples.</p>
<p>"I belong to you," I say, meeting his mismatched gaze and guiding his too-hot hand between my legs.</p>
<p>The creature above me snaps his hands back, and a tickle of fear skates across my chest and hardens my nipples. Lucien is lost to his other half tonight, an ancient beast set to claim what is his.</p>
<p>"I belong to you," I repeat, urging him to take me, fill me. Feeding his fire.</p>
<p>Inhumanly fast, his right arm encircles my hips and lifts them, and I am impaled. There is no warm-up or warning, no gentle nudging in and languid stretch. Just sharp force and brute strength as he seats himself totally inside of me, and I…<em>love it</em>.</p>
<p>I let out a keening moan as my vision darkens, and he starts to move within me. His hands grip me with bruising force, and he moves with impossible strength. I'm battered with hot gusts of wind that come from the giant set of wings above me, beating in time with Lucien's thrust and supporting his weight as he dives into me.</p>
<p>I realize that this is what it really means to have all of him—to belong to Lucien. Fire coarses through my skin and centers between my legs, begging to surface and sacrifice itself to him. His lips descend onto mine, forceful and hot. I break away to moan, but he sinks his teeth hard enough into my bottom lip to draw blood—then suckles it.</p>
<p>His mouth is demanding and prevents me from getting a moment of air; the feeling is too much. I'm starving for life, meeting him thrust for thrust, and he is my <em>everything</em>.</p>
<p>I come, and it's a mind-altering cascade of pleasure and pain.</p>
<p>When I resurface, I notice that Lucien's chest is covered in blood. My moment of shock is only subdued when I realize that it's mine, smeared over both of us from the cursed marks on my arms.</p>
<p>I giggle at the sight of us, looking like some sort of ritual sacrifice—and look up at my lover.</p>
<p>But Lucien is unnaturally still, eyes wide and unfocused. The drums of Calanmai thump back into my awareness as I search his face for an answer to this behaviour. Suddenly, Lucien's wings retract into his back, and I and see what Lucien sensed before I could.</p>
<p>The High Lord of the Spring Court—a golden male, ancient and powerful, standing at the foot of the bed.</p>
<p>
  <em>Tamlin.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*puts hand to mouth* Whatever will happen next? ;)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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